


Chicken Scratch (ON HOLD/BEING REWRITTEN)

by MatsuokasPonytail



Category: Free!
Genre: Bottom Nanase Haruka, Eventual Smut, Gardener Rin, M/M, Rich boy Haru, Top Matsuoka Rin, i promise this fic isn't dead, rinharu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 88,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatsuokasPonytail/pseuds/MatsuokasPonytail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin Matsuoka, living alone since 16, lands a job working the Nanase Mansion's gardens, leaving sheltered Haruka Nanase entranced by the new addition to his family's workforce. With every sloppily-written note the rich boy leaves, the more the gardener boy wants to know - how can someone who spent their entire life learning sophistication and etiquette have such disgraceful handwriting? The two couldn't be more different, but one thing links them together - the overwhelming urge to figure the other out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rewritten

_He_  was staring again.

Rin shifted uncomfortably under the unrelenting gaze that had been locked on his back since this morning. He thought he should be used to it by now, seeing as how this wasn’t at all a new matter. He had never met the boy face to face, had never heard him breathe a word, had never even seen the inside of the wealthy boy’s house he was at currently, on his bandaged knees with dirt seeping into every pore of his body.

The most he knew of the boy was that he had absolutely terrible handwriting.

On many occasions, he would spend a good 20 minutes deciphering the words on the note left for him every morning on the gate. Today was the day the bushes had to be trimmed – at least, that’s what he  _hoped_  the note said, seeing as how he had already done it – and the plants lining the pool house had to be weeded, along with the garden behind it. Each note had a swirly  _HN_  at the bottom, and sometimes, just for a brief second, Rin would wonder how the neat signature could belong to the same person with the scrawled handwriting of an angry toddler with a broken crayon.

He still wasn’t used to the enormous yard even after the third week working in it, stretching out over what Rin thought could potentially be a small village itself. There weren’t many other houses surrounding it, if you didn’t count the two or three miscellaneous houses on the property, like the guest house, the garage (both of which were the size of a considerable townhouse), and the aforementioned pool house. The closest house that  _didn’t_  belong to the Nanases was just less than a block down; the home of the Hazukis. Rin had had the pleasure of meeting the son, Nagisa, on the first day of work.

Nagisa had told him about the Nanase family. He had told him about the son, who was named Haruka, but didn’t like being called by his full name. He had a strong disposition to snap upon hearing anyone call him ‘Mr. Nanase’ as well. Rin made sure to make a mental note.

Apparently, the parents of the Nanase boy were rarely home, leaving Haruka as the head of the house 9 times out of 10. At least, that’s what Rin had gathered between the interview with Mr. and Mrs. Nanase, speaking with Nagisa, and his own personal observations. Knowing they were gone on trips constantly (whether they were for vacations or business matters) was somewhat relieving, knowing he was able to do his job without feeling like they were going to be breathing down his neck, shouting orders from the air-conditioned, Victorian-style layer of heaven.

Rin glanced back at the house, self-consciously keeping his bare chest faced away from the window where he could barely make out the shape of a figure, presumably Haru’s. It was almost noon; almost time to take a break. He’d been picking weeds and trimming bushes for nearly 4 hours on end, and the temperature was faithfully rising as the day wore on. It finally settled on 86°, one of the cooler days this week, but still blistering enough so that the sweat formed quickly even in the safety of the shade.

Yard work would never have been Rin’s first choice for a job, but he didn’t have any room to be picky, and was infinitely thankful to his best friend Sousuke for getting the job for him.

His watch beeped at him, alerting him that it was  _finally_  noon. As he stood up, brushing off his knees with the gardening gloves and stretching out, he felt his back crack deliciously and smiled, cracking whatever else he could. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he headed toward where he had thrown his shirt, setting the uncomfortable, sweaty gardening gloves on the patio table where he had found them. After taking one more glance over the lawn and looking for the water bottle he had mistakenly thrown somewhere (and not finding it), he headed for the gate.

He had made plans to meet up with Sousuke for lunch at his place and as much as Rin wished he could shower and scrub his skin until it was finally clean, it wasn’t worth it, seeing as how he’d be right back on his hands and knees in an hour. Regardless, he stopped at his apartment and scrubbed whatever skin he could in his kitchen sink and changed into a new t-shirt.

Sousuke lived across town – about a 15 minute walk – in the nicer part, where Rin had grown up. They were neighbors at some point, until Rin’s parents moved to a different town.

When he got to the house, he didn’t bother knocking. He never had, and Sousuke had never cared, except for one time in high school when he had walked in on a random second year deep-throating him and Sou had demanded that Rin get out and forget he saw anything. Rin still brought it up sometimes.

“Finally,” Sousuke called, emerging from the bedroom. “Your lasagna’s getting cold, you shit.”

“All I have to do is throw it in the microwave, just like you did ten minutes ago, fucker,” he replied, slapping the back of Sousuke’s head as he passed him.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

“Yeah, you left it at my place last month,” Rin said. “Or maybe I hid it so that you would leave it.”

“You’re a shit,” he scoffed, a smile plastered on his face. He took out a bottle of water and threw it at Rin, who didn’t catch it.

“You’re an ass. Thanks,” he replied, picking the bottle up and throwing the plate of lasagna into the microwave.

“How’s working for the rich bitch?” Sousuke asked, leaning against the counter and taking a swig.

“If you’re taking about Mrs. Nanase, I haven’t seen her since she’s hired me. If you’re taking about her son, I haven’t seen him at all, but either way, it’s hard as fuck and hot as hell and I hate yard work.”

“I told you you didn’t have to take the job,” he shrugged.

“ _But_  it pays well, so I don’t absolutely hate it,” he mumbled, opening the microwave before it beeped. He hated the beep. “It’s also a hell of a lot more comfortable when your boss is never there, like Sasabe was back at my old job. Getting fired was so worth the look on his face.”

Sousuke laughed, pushing himself away from the counter. He hated Sasabe, too.

“What’s on the list of chores this weekend?” he asked, both of them taking a seat.

“Yesterday, I mowed. Sou, it took me 10 hours to mow that fucking lawn. Who the fuck would keep a lawn that takes 10 hours to mow?” Rin said through a mouthful of pasta. “Today was easy. I had to trim bushes and pick weeds. I’m not done picking weeds in the garden.”

“You’re off tomorrow, right?” Sousuke asked, taking another drink of water.

“If I say no, will you still drag me into whatever you’re planning?” he asked, not meeting the teal blue eyes that were fixed on him.

“Yes. I just want to make sure you won’t be absolutely exhausted.”

“Then yes, I’m off Mondays. Mondays and Thursdays. Why?” Rin asked, taking one last bite of the lasagna before pushing the plate away and taking a long drink.

“After my last class, a few of us are going out and there’s someone I want you to meet,” Sou said.

“No. You aren’t going to play matchmaker for me. Remember last time that happened? You set me up with a psychopath,” Rin scoffed.

“It was one time,” Sousuke drawled, waving his hand, which Rin promptly slapped away. “Besides, this guy isn’t a psychopath. I swear on my mother’s life.”

“I don’t have time for this, Sou,” he sighed, throwing his hair into a ponytail. “I have to get back to Nanase’s.”

“Come over around 3, okay?” he smirked.

“No!” Rin yelled from the front door.

“See you then! Dress pretty!”

 

* * *

 

Haru watched the redhead carefully.

He was fascinated by the vibrancy of his cheeks that nearly matched his hair in the blistering sun, entranced by the shine of the sweat on his chest, considerably tanner than it had been when he had first started here.

He wondered who he was. His parents didn’t tell him the new gardener’s name, and he knew better than to distract the boy with pointless conversations and meaningless small talk.

But still.

Haru loved to watch the boy, exceedingly sloppy in his posture, seemingly uncomfortable in this setting more often than not, seeing as how he was always looking around, like he was making sure no one was there to see him. He was too far to see the boy clearly from where he was, lazing comfortably on his stomach on fresh sheets on his bed, just out of the bath, leaving his towel where it fell at the door. He wondered if his face was just as attractive as his body. He wondered if he’d ever have the chance to figure out.

He saw the glance the boy shot behind his shoulder, eyeing his shadow. Haru didn’t care. He trusted the distance and the dark windows to adequately hide him from sight.

The whole concept of workers wasn’t new for Haru; he’d had plenty of workers filter in and out of his family’s employment process, but none of them were ever able to keep up with his mother’s requirements. Too many asked for days off, for raises far too generous, or they ended up quitting after a few months, not able to handle the workload indefinitely. That hadn’t been the case with the last gardener, though. The last gardener was Mrs. Nanase’s favorite – a woman about the same age as herself with deep brown hair that shined in the sun. She became a close friend to Mrs. Nanase, but passed away after a few years.

This boy was different than what Haru’s parents would typically employ, and wondered what possessed them to hire such an amateur. The bushes were uneven today, so it was good that his parents wouldn’t be home for another week or so. He didn’t want the boy to get fired so quickly. He was more pleasant to watch than the others that have come and gone.

A high-pitched  _ding_  went off from somewhere in the room, and Haru promptly ignored it, enraptured by the boy, stretching out and walking away from his work. That must mean it was noon, time for his break. That also meant the text he had gotten was Makoto, reminding him he would soon be arriving. He watched the redhead slip a plain white t-shirt over his head as he headed for the gate, and soon enough, his figure became too small to bother following anymore. He reached for his phone, telling Makoto to stay downstairs when he got there until he was dressed.

 **Were you in the bath again?**  he had replied.  **You have the biggest pool known to mankind right outside, and you opted to spend your time in the bathtub instead. Distracted much?  ;)**

He rolled his eyes and got dressed slowly, at some point hearing the front doors open and click close, the echo resounding throughout the house. That was one thing Haru hated about this house. Everything echoed. With only four carpeted rooms in the entire house, the smallest sound bounced off of every surface until it finally died, typically leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

When he was done, he descended the open, double staircase – “the one on the left is for going down, the one on the right was for going up. Do not use the wrong one or you’re grounded from going swimming until you can do it right, young man.” – and met Makoto, holding a relatively large white box.

“Hey, Haru,” he grinned, his naturally straight teeth forming the picture perfect smile. “You look tired. I told you that you would be, if you stayed up all night.” He continued that way, but was effectively tuned out as Haru eyed the box expressionlessly, internalizing his curiosity until Makoto’s loquacious greeting came to a close. “I just stopped by the market when I was coming through,” he said, jiggling the box lightly. “They were selling premium cuts and knew you were running low, so I picked some up. I’ll put them in the meat freezer and we can head back out. Anywhere you had in mind?”

“Not really,” he mumbled. “Why did you bring me meat?”

“Because your parents won’t appreciate it if it looks like you did absolutely nothing except swim and make the occasional meal without even going shopping for more groceries,” he called from the kitchen. “Have you gone over the paperwork for your father?”

“Not really,” Haru said, careful not to drag his feet as he walked slowly to where Makoto was leaned over, rearranging his freezer.

“What do you mean ‘not really’? It’s a yes or no question,” he chuckled.

“I tried. It was boring, so I put it down,” he said simply.

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “Ready to go?”

“Take the Jag. The keys are the –”

“The green ones, I know. Where to?” Makoto beamed, plucking the keys from the wall.

Haru shrugged, flinging the French doors open, the blistering heat nearly choking him. He hated the heat. Weather like this was the reason he swam so often. He would have been swimming all this week, had he not been distracted by the newest addition to the Nanase staff. He didn’t particularly mind, though. The boy was a rather pleasant distraction.

Car rides with Makoto were always comfortably quiet. Every now and then, Makoto would glance over, only to see the blue eyes of the boy locked on the window, watching the scenes he’s seen only a handful of times fly by him. He would only ever go out when he was with someone, whether it was Makoto or Nagisa or his parents (though it was very rare that they would be home long enough).

Two days ago, they had stayed in when they were supposed to go out, calling in Haru’s backup chef to cook lunch because Makoto was late and Haru had to be at the house to make sure the redheaded gardener boy was sufficiently hydrated, putting water bottles out every so often.

_Shit._

“Wait, Makoto,” Haru said, whipping his head back toward the house, successfully scaring Makoto and causing him to tap the breaks hard enough so that they both jerked forward uncomfortably. “I forgot to refill the gardener’s water bottle.”

“Sorry,” Makoto said, sighing heavily. “I took care of it, though. I saw it near the side of the house, so I brought it in and set out a new one.”

Haru stared at the boy, thankful and relieved.

“Did you put it in the right place?”

“Right outside the patio door.”

“A water bottle from the right fridge?”

“The one full of imported water.”

Haru stared longer, pursing his lips.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, turning back toward the window.

“Did you figure out where you want to eat?” Makoto asked, slowing down as the city traffic began.

Haru shrugged again. He wasn’t in the mood for anything elaborate. He hadn’t dressed up well enough either. Neither did Makoto, though, so maybe he already had a place in mind. He trusted him to make the decision, instead focusing on the houses they passed, the occasional group of kids playing on the sidewalk or in a sprinkler, if the yard was big enough. Haru wondered what that would have been like. His childhood was mainly learning which fork to use when, how to speak 3 languages fluently before his teens, and, of course, which staircase to use. The Hazukis would come over often for dinner parties, as well. Haru hated the parties; he was forced to attend wearing a suit until he was 12 and hated every second of it. After his 12th birthday, he was allowed more casual clothes.

“Will the annoying Hazuki be there?” Haru asked. The Hazuki name still left a sour taste in Haru’s mouth, even after 19 years of knowing one of the daughters would one day be his wife. Haru hadn’t seen her since the dinner party 6 years ago. She had been sent to a boarding school. Assuming she graduated, she could have been anywhere by now, including home.

“Which one are you talking about?” Makoto replied. “The one you like, or one of the 3 you dislike?”

“The one I dislike most,” he mumbled, clenching his phone in his hand.

Makoto sighed. “No, Haru, Nanako is in Europe. I thought Nagisa told you.”

He didn’t reply.

“I know you don’t like her, but you could at least try to get along with her. The last argument you guys had was over mashed potatoes. I don’t think that one was necessary in the least.”

“I don’t want to get along with her. I want to divorce her. I want to divorce her and I’m not even married to her yet,” Haru snapped.

“Either way, no Hazukis will be joining us today,” Makoto said. “I thought today would be a good day to try a new place. It just opened recently, and your favorite critic gave it two thumbs up in last week’s news article.”

Haru didn’t care. He was hungry and wanted food, and he would damn well enjoy it, as long as there was no female Hazuki nagging in his left ear.


	2. Chapter 2

Mondays were nothing short of a blessing for Rin. He took a year off of school due to his financial state, so while Sousuke was in and out of classes until 2, finishing up the last few weeks of school, Rin slept in. He rolled out of the squeaky bed at around 11, stretching and letting out a groan as he remembered Sousuke’s plan to get him to meet some guy. It’s not like Rin couldn’t find himself a boyfriend (he’s had a couple before) but he really couldn’t juggle a relationship on top of the Nanase gardener job. It was a challenge just to find time to shower properly since he started. His body was perpetually sore and he wanted nothing more than to rip up all the shitty notes on the Nanase gate and sleep, but that was out of the question.

He had a blind date tonight, and Sousuke be damned if he thought Rin was going to put in any extraneous effort into looking good. After breakfast, which was toast and eggs – which he probably could have made on the sidewalk, it was so damn hot out – he got dressed in dark wash skinny jeans with the ankles rolled up and a white button up t-shirt, leaving the top few unbuttoned. It was still early, but he figured since he didn’t have anything else to do, he may as well wait at Sou’s place.

Tying his hair back into a ponytail and shoving his wallet into his back pocket, he left his apartment and walked down the familiar street. He almost turned toward the Nanase estate before he caught himself, turning left instead. Rin let himself in with the spare key Sousuke left under the fake potted plant outside the door and smiled lightly to himself. Sou could never keep anything alive. He used to spend a majority of his allowance as a kid on fish before he finally gave up after losing 3 in the same week to malnutrition. Rin was surprised he had managed to even keep the fake plant intact.

The apartment was quiet when he settled down, stretching out over the couch and smiling peacefully to himself. He rather preferred the quiet of this side of town, unlike the constant creaks of his apartment building, or the moans of his neighbors, or the screaming arguments of the older couple across the street – the divorce was coming; Rin could tell. The silence reminded him of when he and Sousuke used to race home from school, only stopping to buy popsicles or a soda from the grocery store on the corner. It reminded him of a time before his life was turned upside down, before he was kicked out, before he was forced to grow up, before his father died and his mother went berserk.

Simpler times.

He heard Sousuke’s car door shut at 3:07. He was talking to someone. Or was he on the phone?

“…sounds great. I’ll drop by Wednesday? Okay, see you then,” he said, opening the door and shutting it, shoving his phone in his back pocket and jumping back against the wall as soon as he turned around. “Jesus – fuck, Rin, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Who was that?” Rin asked, taking a step toward him.

“Who was who?” he retorted, flicking Rin on the forehead and leading him to the kitchen. “Just a friend from class. He called to say he couldn’t make it later.”

“What are you doing Wednesday?” he prodded, taking a bottle of water Sousuke held out to him.

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “You look good. I’m glad you listened to me for once.”

“Yeah, I was beginning to think I might listen to you too much,” he mumbled.

“Anyway, we’ll leave in a few minutes and meet up with the others at the restaurant. It’s kind of a distance, but it’s got great food and a beautiful venue. I have to change first.”

“Whatever. Hurry up,” Rin snapped.

“Anxious to see your blind date, huh?” he said, arching an eyebrow before winking and heading back toward his bedroom.

Rin groaned and plopped himself back on the old leather sofa Sousuke had gotten at a yard sale, carefully avoiding the suspicious red stain near the center of the left cushion. It was a dreadful old thing, but “they’d be crazy to pass up such a great deal.”

He wasn’t anxious to see the guy Sousuke thought would be boyfriend material. He didn’t even want a boyfriend. He didn’t have the time, nor did he have the patience to deal with someone like the last guy Sou had sworn was perfect for Rin. He would go out, meet the guy, and maybe talk a little bit, or maybe not, then go home and pretend it never happened. Then he’d work his ass off tomorrow to make enough money for this month’s bills.

“Ready?” Sousuke asked, popping into the room and plucking his keys from the counter where he’d dropped them. He wore a dark blue button up t-shirt similar to Rin’s with white skinny jeans.

“Your gay is showing,” Rin said, squinting and pointing at the jeans.

“Good,” he laughed, earning an eye roll from Rin. “Let’s go.”

The car ride was indeed a longer one than Rin had expected, but Sousuke was right. It was worth it. The restaurant was set on an elevated piece of land overlooking a river that reflected the horizon. The walls were all glass, so the natural sunlight gave the dining hall a soft, orange glow.

“They should be waiting for us at the back-most table. I think I saw Chigusa’s car out front,” Sousuke said quietly, winding through the white tables.

They approached a table with three people seated at it – a small, mousy-looking girl with auburn hair and green eyes who smiled at the two approaching immediately and two guys who looked too absorbed in a conversation to be bothered with introductions. One looked to be very small, almost as small as Nagisa, but with silver hair and pale blue eyes. The other one, however, shocked even Rin. It could have been the light playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn his hair was the color of fire, and his eyes reflected the sun’s orange glow, making him see flames in the honey irises that slowly shifted toward him.

“Rin, this is Chigusa, Ai, and Seijuro. Guys, this is my best friend, Rin,” Sousuke said, nudging me toward the boy with fire-red hair.

“Nice to meet you guys,” Rin smiled, eyeing the boy who stood up to shake his hand.

“He never shuts up about you,” Seijuro said, gesturing toward Sou, who had already taken his seat and delved into a conversation with Chigusa about some game that would be taking place.

“Looks like I have a lot of clearing up to do already, don’t I?” he sighed lightly, pushing a strand of hair out of his face.

“It depends. Have you really never beat him in an arm wrestling match?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat down, gesturing for Rin to take the seat across from him.

“First off, fuck you, Yamazaki. I’ll beat your ass later.”

“If you can’t beat me in an arm wrestling match, what makes you think you can beat me in a real fight?” Sousuke laughed.

“Second off, that’s bull, and he knows it,” Rin said, earning chuckles from the others at the table.

“He also said you took a year off school, is that right?” Seijuro asked. “And you work at the Nanase Mansion?”

“Those parts are true. Looks like he _can_ spew more than just bullshit,” Rin spat, getting the boy across from him to laugh beautifully once again.

“So, what’s it like?” Ai asked. “Working at the mansion?”

“Well,” Rin said, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not easy, especially in the heat, but it pays more than double my last job. Mr. and Mrs. Nanase are rarely home, either, from what I’ve come to understand, so it’s kind of a relief, you know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine. It would be relieving to not be watched by your bosses or other employees while you worked,” Chigusa said, smiling brightly.

“Oh, well, they have a son that stays home and mans the house when they’re gone, and sometimes I feel like he has it out for me, what with the terribly written chore list and the way he just – I don’t know – _watches_ ,” Rin said, shifting uncomfortably as he remembered the way Haruka’s eyes would bore into his back. “I think he writes so badly on purpose, hoping that I’ll do the wrong thing and he watches so intensely so he can fire me as soon as I fuck up his precious garden.”

“What a freak,” Seijuro chuckles.

“It’s not bad, though. I kind of want to meet him and figure out why his handwriting is so shitty when he was born and bred to be the most sophisticated creature in this town,” Rin shrugged.

A waitress came over then, taking the orders quickly and rushing back to the kitchen. Tonight might go a lot better than Rin had imagined.

* * *

 

Haru sighed, staring out the window at his empty yard. He decided he hated Mondays and Thursdays.

His private tutor would be here any minute to start his first class. He was glad it was almost summer, so he could be rid of all this for a few months – if his father was kind enough to allow him a summer vacation. He didn’t get one last year. Instead, he was sent to the States for a business program his father insisted he take so “he could one day take over the Nanase businesses and handle them with ease,” or something along those lines. Haru didn’t want the businesses. He wanted to watch the gardener boy.

That was selfish, short-term thinking, he knew that; wanting to give up a business deal that had been passed down for 3 generations, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to take classes that had no point to them. He didn’t care about accounting or investments, nor did he understand it, but he had to pretend to. However, he wasn’t too good at caring _or_ pretending, so conversations with his father when it came to matters such as these were never enjoyable.

His phone _dinged_ with the notification that Nagisa had texted him, asking if Haru would still like to go shopping after his lessons. He said yes, that was a stupid question, Nagisa, of course he still wanted to go shopping. He needed to pick up new swim shorts for the gardener boy for when he cleaned the pool. He’d have to guess on the size, but it couldn’t be too hard. He assumed they were about the same. Maybe Haru should pick up a new pair as well. His newest ones were fading from the harsh sunlight, and there was nothing uglier than faded jammers.

Two hours later, Haru’s head hurt and equations swam around in his mind, and he was dangerously close to drowning either himself or this mindless professor in the backyard if the session didn’t come to an end soon. By the time the old man left, Haruka wasn’t sure he wanted to be around Nagisa, who would do very little to help his pounding headache, but he needed to go.

Within minutes of sending the text for Nagisa to come over, there was a series of quick, light knocks on the door before it flung open to reveal a small blond who looked to be almost vibrating in place.

“Which car do you want to take today, Haru?” he asked. Haru could tell he was trying to contain his enthusiasm for his sake.

He thought for a little while. Nagisa was a more reckless driver than Makoto, but not so reckless that Haru didn’t trust him to drive one of the more expensive cars.

“Take the Ferrari,” Haru muttered, heading out toward the garage. “Gold keys.”

“Yes!” Nagisa squealed, running toward the case of car keys. “Why do you need 5 cars if only 3 of you live here?”

“Because my parents have nothing else to spend their money on,” Haru said, barely loud enough to be heard.

“They could just buy a house somewhere else so you can keep this one,” Nagisa replied, catching up to him just in time to open the garage door for him.

“I don’t want this one,” he said.

“Oh,” he muttered. “Well, maybe they can buy you a different one!”

They climbed into the car and pulled away from the house.

“Yeah,” Haru sighed, not wanting to speak anymore. “Maybe they can.”

Car rides with Nagisa were always more eventful than with Makoto, who backed out of going last minute because of something at school. The mall was barely a 15 minute drive away, yet Haru swore he saw his life flash before his eyes at least once every 2 minutes. Maybe next time, Nagisa would drive his own car, and not threaten to crash one of his.

“Are you getting a new suit to wear for the annual dinner party?” Nagisa asked, turning down the radio just enough to be heard.

“No,” Haru deadpanned. “I haven’t worn a suit in 8 years. I don’t plan on starting now.”

“Then what are you going here for?” he asked, his eyebrows coming together.

“The swim store,” he replied, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, “For jammers.”

“Another pair?”

“Not for me. They’re for the new gardener.”

“The redhead that started last week?” Nagisa asked enthusiastically.

Haru opened his eyes and squinted at the blond, whose hands gripped the wheel tightly as he bounced in his seat.

“How do you know about him?”

“I met him,” he said, a proud smile stretched over his features, and Haru’s chest tightened.

“When?” he demanded.

“The day he started.”

Haru wanted nothing more than to ask his name, but how ignominious would it be to not even know his own workers’ names?

“What did you talk about?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“He asked about you,” Nagisa shrugged. “He just wanted to know what kind of people you were. It’s okay, though. It’s not like I spilled your life story.”

A small half-smile crept its way onto Haru’s lips and he felt a certain pride in knowing that the boy had asked about him. Even though it was natural for workers to be curious about their employers, he couldn’t help but feel the smallest amount of satisfaction.

“Have you talked to him?” Nagisa asked. “He’s pretty cool.”

“Not really,” Haru answered as they neared the mall. “He works. I don’t want to bother him.”

“I doubt he would mind,” he giggled.

Haru didn’t answer.

His thoughts drifted back to the redheaded gardener. He wondered what he was doing right now. He wondered if the boy was just as curious as he was.

“What style are you going to get him?” Nagisa asked, twirling the keys around his finger as they walked through the sliding glass doors of the mall, the cool air-conditioning sending a chill down Haru’s spine. He avoided people effortlessly, almost losing Nagisa in the midst a few times, but catching up before they reached the swimwear store.

“Pick one,” Haru said, heading for the section he knew his favorite ones were.

After trying on a few pairs (which was ridiculous, according to Nagisa. Why did he need _another_ pair of purple jammers?), he finally settled on one.

“They’re the same as your other ones,” he whined.

“No, they’re not. Did you pick one out?”

Nagisa held up a pair of full-legged jammers with red accents.

“I thought the red would look really cool, because they match his eyes,” Nagisa beamed.

He had red eyes. Interesting.

“It’s too bad he works for you and probably gets sick of spending all day over there. I think he would be a lot of fun to hang out with.”

Haru grabbed the material from Nagisa and stepped up to the counter, waiting impatiently for the cashier to ring them up. He had thought the same thing at some point of the day, in a passing moment of “what if he didn’t loath being here?” However, he more than likely did, and Haru wasn’t planning on casually asking the stranger with terrible posture to hang around even longer than he already did, running the risk of having him hate it even more.

Maybe he didn’t hate it. It was unlikely, but maybe he was a weird variety that actually liked yard work.

Maybe tomorrow, if things worked out, Haru could finally start to figure the stranger out, starting with his name.

Nagisa was pleasantly quiet on the way home, and after parking the car – without crashing into the back wall of the garage – went straight home, claiming to have a date to prepare for, leaving Haru to himself in the empty estate.

He resorted to sorting the documents his father had left him a week ago, filing and skimming until the evening professor showed up for the next tutoring session. Haru really hated Mondays.

The horizon cast an orange light through the windows, blinding him as he tried to focus on the small, unfamiliar words.

“This is a horrid language,” Haru mumbled for the seventh time.

“Es ist die Sprache des Kriegers,” the old man replied.

“What?”

“It is the language of the warrior,” he said, a bored expression befalling his features. “You learned French so easily. This shouldn’t be too hard. It’s very similar to English in the grammatical sense.”

“I don’t care. It’s 6. My lesson is over,” Haru said, rubbing his temples and keeping his head down to avoid the sun.

“Very well. Have a good evening, sir,” the man said, bowing slightly before leaving, the slam of each door echoing throughout the house.

He _really_ hated Mondays.

Before he forgot, he folded the gardener’s new swimwear up and wrote a quick note to hang on the gate for tomorrow. He put the suit in the pool house, making sure to leave another note on top of them.

Tomorrow, he would figure out a way to learn the stranger’s name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to quickly thank you guys so much for taking the time to read and comment on this. Your support means the world to me and I love reading your comments! I don't reply to all of you because it would just be me repeating 'thank you', so I'm going to say it here. I'm so thankful for you guys and gals and everyone in between, and wouldn't be as happy with it if it weren't for you amazing people. Enjoy, pals! <3

Rin had somehow managed to get into the tightest pair of swimwear he had ever seen in his life after a good 10 minutes. He knelt near the edge of the pool, skimming the surface with the net. The water looked so clear and cool and he couldn’t wait until he jumped in to scrub the sides. It was cloudy today, making the sun’s rays a bit more bearable than the previous couple of days. Then again, it was still early in the day and he had plenty of work ahead of him. After the pool, he’d have to tend to the plants growing along the gate, which were getting far too tall to look elegant.

He glanced back at the house, not feeling the eyes of the mysterious boy who lived inside for once. Maybe he was still asleep.

Rin wanted to meet him. Even last night, as the boy with fiery hair and honey eyes captivated him, he couldn’t help but feel the constant urge to see this faceless boy with his own eyes. Haruka.

He smiled slightly, thinking of the way the little blond neighbor described him. He made him sound like an asshole that never laughed, but assured him that he wasn’t bad at all. Apparently, his eyes were blue. Like, _really_ blue. He wondered if they were the same shade as Sousuke’s.

He was just about to get into the pool (washcloth and cleaner in hand) before a small voice echoed from the direction of the house.

“Don’t you dare get into my pool without rinsing yourself off first,” he shouted. Rin squinted in the direction of the house, but didn’t see any sign of the boy.

“What the hell do you mean? It’s just water,” Rin shouted back in the general vicinity of the house.

“I mean, go back into the pool house and rinse yourself off in the shower before you step foot into my pool,” he shouted back.

Rin rolled his eyes. He set down the rag and cleaner and stepped into the pool house, rinsing himself off in the shower like the boy had demanded. He still hasn’t met him, but he was already pissing him off. Rin had never even seen the boy _use_ the damn pool. He didn’t see how this shower would do anything, seeing as he was just getting back into water.

Nonetheless, he made sure he was sufficiently clean of sweat before turning the water off and stepping back.

“Are you content now?” he shouted at the house, throwing his hands up.

“Yes, thank you,” Haruka said quietly, pushing himself from the side of the pool house and taking a step toward Rin.

 _Shit_.

Rin was about to respond, but he couldn’t find his voice. The boy standing in front of him was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. His eyes were the color of tanzanite, the jet black hair making them stand out all the more. His skin was slightly tanned, the black t-shirt accentuating the richness of it.

Rin closed his mouth, which had been hanging open for a while now as he took in the sight of the boy that stood in front of him, holding out a tall glass of something.

Haruka waved the glass, getting Rin’s attention back.

“I brought you iced tea,” he said as Rin took it, his eyes still never leaving his face.

“Uh, thank you,” Rin said, taking a short sip. He didn’t like tea, but the fresh coolness of it felt good. He shivered as some dripped onto his bare chest.

“Do the jammers fit okay?” Haruka asked, his eyes trailing slowly down his body.

“You tell me,” Rin mumbled, taking another drink and turning around in a circle slowly. He was about to say something else, but before he could, Haruka cut him off.

“What’s your name?”

Rin’s eyebrows knitted together. Shouldn’t he know this already? He’d been working here for over a week now.

“Rin. Rin Matsuoka,” he said as Haruka’s eyes shifted back up to meet his.

Haru paused.

“Your name –” he started.

“Yeah, I know it’s really girly,” he said, rolling his eyes and taking another sip of the bland tea. “Yours is, too.”

“I was going to say it has a nice ring to it,” Haruka said.

Rin’s mouth dropped open again and he could feel his face heating up. It wasn’t often that someone said his name actually sounded nice. He was used to the incessant teasing because of the femininity of it. He quite liked the change.

“Thank you,” Rin said, but stopped himself before he said “Haruka.” He remembered that Nagisa had told him that he didn’t like it.

“Haru,” he said, holding out a hand. “You can call me Haru. Drop the formalities, please.”

“Haru,” Rin smiled, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. Rin wondered if he ever smiled. He didn’t look unhappy, per say; just annoyed – bored, even.

“I should get back to work. I’ve got a lot to do,” he said, gesturing toward the pool. He didn’t want the boy to go, but he really did have work to do, and him being here would be distracting, to say the least.

“Yes, you do,” Haru said, gazing at the pool. Rin stood silently for a moment, not sure what to say to ask him to leave politely. “Come inside during your lunch break.”

“I would love to, but I already –” Rin started.

“Of course,” Haru said quickly. “You don’t have to stay.”

Rin stared at the expressionless boy and nodded lightly. He had already made plans to meet up with Seijuro for lunch at the café, but couldn’t help but feel bad for saying no to Haru. He seemed like a bit of an asshole, but he was fascinating. He stood straight, making him appear taller than he actually was – Rin still had about an inch on him – and he had an aura that demanded attention as soon as he was around. He wondered if that was the way the boy was raised to be, or if that was how he was naturally. He assumed the former.

“The bushes are uneven, by the way,” Haru said, glancing back at Rin before heading back toward the house.

Rin rolled his eyes and bit back a groan. He thought that maybe Nagisa was wrong about him “not being too bad.” So far, he was a snob – a gorgeous one, but a snob nonetheless.

“I’ll get to it as soon as I’m done here,” he said.

“Don’t forget to test the pH levels of the water, too,” Haru called.

“Yeah, I got your note. I won’t forget,” Rin mumbled, setting the glass down and sinking into the cool water. He shivered at first, but quickly got used to it as he scrubbed the tiles until the invisible layer of grime was gone.

He could feel Haru’s gaze on him again, but focused on finishing the pool before he got redressed to go fix the bushes. It was going to be a long day at work.

By noon, he was still debating whether to drop inside for a few minutes, but ended up tying his hair back into a ponytail and jogging home. Seijuro would be waiting, so he had to hurry. He didn’t feel bad about keeping Sousuke waiting for a long time – that asshole was always late, anyway – but he didn’t want to make Seijuro sit around for too long.

Last night truly had been far better than he could have imagined it. Maybe Sousuke was right about him being a pretty good match for Rin. Apparently, Seijuro was newer to the area, having just transferred in at the semester, and lived closer to campus than Sousuke did. He had smiled a lot. Rin liked to see him smile. He talked about his little brother, whom he called Momo, and Rin told him that he had a little sister about the same age named Gou, but had always insisted on being called Kou – Gou was too boyish.

He stopped by his apartment, changing into something nicer and splashing his face before heading back out, walking quickly to the café, where Seijuro stood outside, phone in hand.

“Hey, sorry,” Rin said breathlessly. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

“No, you’re fine. I was here early,” he smiled, opening the door. “How long do you have?”

“A while,” he shrugged, scanning the interior of the familiar café. It was full of college students with a few older people in suits here and there, all of them on their laptops or their noses stuck in textbooks. Sousuke and Rin used to come here when they were in high school. His favorite thing to get was the chocolate chip caramel Frappuccino. He was always more of a coffee person. Sousuke liked tea and tried for a long time to get Rin to drink it.

“It’s healthier,” he had said.

“Not with the amount of shit you put in it,” Rin had replied.

Seijuro turned out to be a tea person, too, making Rin wince when he offered him a taste of it.

“How’s work going for you today? You look worn out,” he said, stirring the brown liquid.

“I met Haru this morning for the first time,” he answered, ripping a piece off of the cinnamon roll between them. “You know, the son?”

“How is he?”

Rin pursed his lips and tried to think of a way to explain his first impression of the boy.

“He’s kind of your typical snob, in all honesty. The first thing he said to me was, “Don’t get into my pool without showering first!” or something. Then he proceeded to tell me that I sucked at trimming bushes and invite me in during my break.”

Seijuro laughed, throwing his head back and running a hand through his hair. Rin laughed, too.

“Is he hot, though?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He’s – how do I –” Rin said, biting his cheek and thinking. “He’s pretty. It looked like he was really bored while we were talking, though. I don’t think he likes me much.”

“You guys had one conversation. He’ll warm up to you.”

Rin rolled his eyes.

“As long as I can keep my job, I don’t care whether he likes me or not.”

 

* * *

 

Haru stood in the kitchen, watching the redhead through the window. He was leaving. Of course he was leaving; he wouldn’t want to stay here for his break. He had other things to do, other people to meet up with. Maybe a girlfriend. _Probably_ a girlfriend. He was breathtaking; Haru couldn’t see any reason he wouldn’t have one. His eyes were especially mesmerizing. He’d never seen irises such a bright, pure red.

Rin Matsuoka.

Haru liked his name. He wanted him to come inside, but he knew it was unlikely to happen. Perhaps Nagisa would come over and eat the hors d’oeuvres he had his chef make last night in preparation for today.

The maid would be coming soon, hopefully. She had been skipping days lately, and the dust on the shelves was building up rapidly. Haru would probably have to fire her; something he would hate doing. She had doubled as his nanny for many years growing up, and became quite close with his parents, just like Miho had, but now the maid was getting old and her work performance was lacking. His mother wouldn’t approve, even if she was a family friend.

Then again, his mother didn’t approve of anything less than impeccable. It got on his nerves more often than not; the way she was infatuated with upholding the faulty image of the Nanase family tree. She wasn’t even a Nanase herself. She had married into the name. His father wasn’t so much of a pushover, but he was still just as fixated.

This isn’t what Haru wanted. He wished he could have spent more time with Makoto growing up in the normal part of town instead of being forced to spend time with Nanako at dinner parties and play dates. She didn’t like going to them either, which was one of the only things they had in common, and the main topic of the few civil conversations they had.

He winced at the thought of having her over again in a few weeks’ time, when his parents returned and made the final preparations for the annual dinner. They were bringing in a new chef from France, specifically for the main dish, and Haru would be in charge of communicating, seeing as how he was the only one who could speak French fluently. That reminded him; he had to call the chef to confirm the date.

He waited rather impatiently for the gardener boy to return, distracting himself with his father’s paperwork, glancing outside the window every few minutes. He finally returned at 1:32 – two minutes late – and was wearing a different shirt than when he left. This one was a plain white t-shirt with a deep V-neck that Haru decided he absolutely _had_ to see up close.

He wandered outside at some point, holding a fresh bottle of water, as Rin was trying – and overall failing – to even out the bushes. He didn’t register Haru’s presence right away, too focused on a certain branch that seemed to change length every time he went to trim it.

“If you’re having that hard of a time on one single branch, I might as well do it myself,” he said, causing Rin to jump slightly and snap his head toward Haru with a suppressed venomous look in his eyes.

“If you can do it yourself, why do you even need a gardener?” he asked, turning back toward the bush and cutting the entire branch off.

“It was my parents’ decision,” he replied, handing the water bottle out as Rin faced him again. “Then again, I hate yard work, so I suppose having a gardener isn’t a terrible thing.”

“You and me both,” Rin mumbled before taking a long drink of the ice cold water.

“Why are you working here?” Haru asked simply, causing Rin to choke on the water.

“What do you mean?” he coughed. “I needed a job. The position was open. Your parents were willing to hire me. Why else would I mow your lawn for 10 hours a day in the boiling heat?”

Haru pursed his lips, eyeing the (still) uneven bushes.

“You shouldn’t have cut that last branch. Now it looks like there’s a hole in the bush,” he said.

“I’ll fix it, Mr. Nanase,” Rin said curtly.

“Don’t call me that,” Haru deadpanned. “That’s my father’s name. I’m not anything like him.”

“Sorry,” he said, just as expressionless as Haru. “Thank you for the water.”

He turned away from Haru and began to clip the branches again, more carefully this time.

Haru wondered if he had been too assertive. He wanted the boy to enjoy his work and his time there. He wanted him to like seeing Haru around, talking about miscellaneous topics, distracting him from work for short periods of time. He wanted him to like Haru’s presence.

He regretted not thinking about his first words to the boy. Maybe he could try again later. Rin needed to get back to work. Haru could take a hint.

“If you need anything, feel free to come in and ask,” Haru said, walking back to the house to watch him from the safety of the sun’s harsh rays.

“Will do,” he said.

He wondered if Rin was always as aggravated as he seemed today, or if it was just Haru that had upset him to this point. Maybe something had gone wrong during his break. Whatever the reason for Rin’s irritation was, Haru wished he could do something about it, to get the look of shock and intrigue back in his eyes that he had seen briefly this morning. He loved the way Rin’s eyes had trailed over his body, relished in the fact that he was taken aback by his appearance – or maybe it was just his presence that had shocked him. He felt a sense of pride when Rin had looked at him like that.

He usually hated it when people looked at him like that. It was the same way they looked at his parents; like they were something from a superior species, a different type of person altogether. He hated how some would treat them differently simply because of the Nanase name. It made him feel like an outsider, like everyone expected things from him.

Haru sighed, stopping in front of the door and glancing back over his shoulder at the boy, who was looking over his shoulder as well. Their eyes met for a brief second before Rin snapped his head back toward the bushes. He smiled, opening the door and heading inside. He didn’t have classes today, nor did he have any plans, so he decided on going for a swim, slipping into his new jammers. After rinsing off in the pool house – he hated it when people didn’t rinse the oil off their skin before getting in the water – he slipped into the pool, the water grasping onto him and pulling him in until he was completely submerged in it.

He wished Makoto could have come over to keep him company, but he said he had plans. He always had plans. He was busier than Haru could ever have imagined being, but never seemed to mind having minimal time for himself. Between being a full-time employee and student, Haru didn’t understand how he could fit a relationship in there, as well as spending time with each other.

He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed as he floated on his back until he heard Rin’s voice calling for him from the front of the house.

“Haru! Where did you go, damn it?” he shouted.

He pushed himself out of the water, grabbing a towel with pruney fingers – he still wasn’t used to the feeling, even after all these years – and draped it over his head, towel drying his hair. Drops of water dried almost instantly in the sun as he walked toward where the boy was walking aimlessly, squinting his eyes. He was just about to call for Haru again before their eyes met and Rin’s gaze trailed over him. The look from this morning was back. Haru smiled to himself before wiping the expression from his face and coughed lightly, getting Rin’s attention back on his face.

“There’s someone,” he began, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and looked towards the house before restarting. “There’s someone here to see you. She kind of just walked in, and I knew you weren’t inside, so I thought I would tell you.”

Someone was here? That was odd. He never had any visitors – when his parents were absent, anyway. He squinted, tilting his head in thought before something clicked.

“What’s today’s date?” he asked, gripping the edges of the towel.

“I’m pretty sure it’s May 7th,” Rin said, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked curiously at Haru.

“Fucking –” Haru began, tearing the towel from his head and biting his tongue. “Rin. Will you please go inside and tell Ms. Hazuki that I’m not expecting any visitors today and I will get back to her tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s wrong?” Rin asked.

“Nothing is _wrong_. It’s just _annoying_. Please, I know it’s not in the job description, but please get her out of my house.”

He nodded once, still blatantly confused, but jogged toward the house.

Nanako was done with her second semester in the States already. Damn it, he forgot. She wasn’t scheduled to return for another two weeks, though, and _especially_ wasn’t expected to show up unannounced demanding attention like the materialistic, self-obsessed bitch she was. If attention and compliments were what she wanted, she knew she came to the wrong place.

He ran a hand through his hair and pulled, walking quickly back toward the pool. He wasn’t dealing with her today. He would have to soon, but until that time came where it was inevitable, he would put it off as much as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

Rin stood awkwardly behind the blonde girl who stood with her back to him. He was in awe of the interior of the house; the double staircase at the entrance, the pristine white tiles so clean that he could nearly see his reflection, the tall, glass windows that reached the ceilings. It was breathtaking. Everything fit together so beautifully and was in such a balanced harmony that it took Rin a few moments to comprehend the fact that he was standing in this house and knew the people who lived here. It felt like a dream or a privilege to be inside it, but one thing didn’t belong here, and even Rin could tell.

The girl’s curly, golden hair stopped at her bare shoulders. She was tall – or maybe it was the heels and short skirt making her appear so – and he hesitated calling out to her. She had a certain air of confidence that felt familiar. It was like Haru’s, but significantly more suffocating. He didn’t like her presence.

“Excuse me, Miss Hazuki,” Rin said from the doorway of the parlor as politely as he could. “Mr. and Mrs. Nanase are out, but they should be back this Saturday, if you’d like to come back then.”

“I don’t need to talk to them,” she said, her silky voice carrying lightly throughout the room. She set down a sculpture that looked to be made of crystal and turned her head slightly. The tip of her nose curled up slightly and there was a deeply set smirk on her lips. “I request Haruka’s presence. Make yourself useful and fetch him for me.”

Rin bit back his anger at her words and took a breath.

“He won’t be seeing you today, madam, I apologize for the inconvenience. If there’s something urgent you need to tell him, I will gladly tell him for you,” he said evenly. He definitely didn’t like her being here, he decided. He wasn’t sure who she was, outside of being a Hazuki, but he could tell that she was someone whom Haru didn’t trust or like in the least – and quite frankly, he could see why.

“He won’t be seeing me?” she said with a chuckle. She faced him, her hard blue irises locked on his. “That’s absurd. Of course he will. He can’t say no to me, or his daddy won’t be too happy with him, and I _know_ how much he hates dealing with those fouls moods of his.”

“Haru is not going to be making an appearance, Miss, so please, if you would, come again at a more convenient time,” Rin said, taking a cautious step toward her. He wished Haru would come in and deal with this himself. Why was Rin doing this in the first place? It wasn’t his responsibility. This was a private affair between the Nanases and the Hazukis; this didn’t involve the Matsuoka boy, yet here he was, acting as a buffer between them.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t curious, though. Why was Haru so opposed to seeing her? The families obviously knew each other well – maybe these two knew one another _too_ well.

“Where is he? If you’re adamant on being so useless, I can go and get him myself. Just tell me where he is,” she spat, looking him up and down with a look of aversion etched onto her features.

Rin clenched his jaw as he recalled the last words of his mother to him, the word ‘useless’ resounding in his eardrums. He probably should have thought about his next words, but the anger was setting heavily on his stomach and he was digging his nails so deeply into his palms that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he started bleeding. This was the exact reason he couldn’t stand people in this part of town. They treated everyone as if they were simply roaches beneath their feet, brushing them off without a second thought.

“Look, I tried to be nice, but obviously what I’m saying isn’t getting through your skull because of all the hairspray in your hair,” he said. “I’m not a Nanase servant. I don’t even know where they are. All I know is that I hate tending to their gardens, but do it anyway, because it’s the best paying job I’ve ever had. So, I’m going to say it again, because it’s what I’ve been asked to tell you. Please, leave. Haru isn’t expecting any visitors today and honestly, I think he would have been okay with seeing anyone _but_ you. Goodbye, Miss Hazuki. I expect you can see your way out yourself, seeing as how you saw yourself in. Have a good day.”

“What makes you think you can speak to me like that?” Nanako exclaimed, her voice growing in pitch, making Rin cringe. “I have more right to be standing in this house than you do.”

“Nanako, please keep it down, you’re going to wake my relatives buried out back,” Haru said, his footsteps clicking therapeutically, echoing lightly in the hallway behind Rin. He was dressed – thankfully – in a tight black t-shirt and jeans. His hair was still slightly damp, but the straight, jet-black locks framed his face just as perfectly as they had this morning. “Thank you, Rin, for keeping Ms. Hazuki company while she waited so patiently for me. Please go wash your hands down the hall and come back here as soon as you’re finished.”

What was Haru doing? Rin assumed he wasn’t going to come in until he knew she was gone, and obviously, she wasn’t gone yet.

Nonetheless, he nodded, not bothering to give Nanako a second glance, and headed aimlessly down the hall Haru had gestured toward. He assumed he was looking for the bathroom, so he took his time, overhearing bits and pieces of Haru’s and Nanako’s argument as he opened and closed countless doors looking for a bathroom. (Why did they need an entire room just for a single desk?)

It seemed there was quite a bit of bad blood between the two – and whether it carried into the rest of the family was a mystery; one that Rin wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He tried to block out most of the conversation between them, but Nanako’s voice really was so shrill that it was hard to ignore. He caught a few words between them here and there – “This isn’t the ‘welcome home’ I expected.” “Why did you expect one from me in the first place? I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t come back at all.” – but mainly just heard echoes and distorted mumbles.

He finally found the bathroom after opening at least a dozen doors in two different hallways. He almost gave up looking until he swung one open, entering a bathroom triple the size of any bathroom he’d ever seen – did they really need a bathtub as big as a small swimming pool? – and washing the dirt from his hands like Haru had asked. He didn’t see why it would matter if he was just going to go back outside and get them just as filthy immediately, but he scrubbed them anyway, and by the time he was done – and somehow managed to find his way back to the parlor without getting lost– he saw Haru standing alone in the middle of the room, picking at his fingernails.

“How many doors did you open before you found the right one?” he asked, not turning to look at Rin.

“Shut up,” Rin mumbled. There was a moment of awkward silence; at least, it was awkward for Rin, because just as he was finished speaking, his stomach clenched and groaned and he regretted not eating anything except half of a cinnamon roll for lunch.

“Come with me,” he said, leading him through the entrance, down a wide, open hallway, and into a kitchen with black marble floors and white granite counters. An island stood in the center, with barstools on either side. “Take a seat.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at Haru with wide eyes and furrowed brows. He was still in the middle of his workday. He still had at least 3 hours before he would usually be able go home. The plants at the gate were still horrifyingly tall and the stupid fucking bushes were still uneven – Rin could tell now how uneven they truly were, as he glanced out the window at them.

“I’m positive,” he replied, gesturing toward the barstool.

He felt uneasy, like he shouldn’t be in here, like Haru shouldn’t be taking him away from his work when he was the one who had been persistently bitching about getting the job done well enough. He still didn’t know how he felt about the fact that he always watched him from inside these very walls.

Haru raised his eyebrows and jerked his head toward the island expectantly, waiting for Rin to sit down, who rolled his eyes and obliged; whatever would help him get back to work quicker.

* * *

 

Haru almost felt bad for having left Rin to deal with Nanako himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully regret it, seeing as how it ended with Rin finally inside with him. He still looked uncomfortable, though, shifting every so often as his feet dangled from the high stool. He was hunched over slightly; something that didn’t bother Haru as much as he thought it would. He typically couldn’t stand bad posture when people were sitting at his dinner table. This was different, though, he supposed.

Occasionally, the ruby irises would meet with his and Rin’s shoulders would visibly relax for just a second before he glanced away, taking in the room around him. His hands were fidgeting under the island countertop – Haru could tell by the way his biceps would tighten and loosen periodically. He hadn’t touched the platter of hors d’oeuvres in front of him. Haru sat up straighter in his seat across from the redhead and folded his hands under his chin.

“Rin,” Haru said, his voice low and even, his face expressionless. Rin turned to him immediately upon hearing his name, his tense features softening. “Relax. Eat.”

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry. I need to get back –”

“Rin,” Haru said, a bit harsher this time. He decided he liked saying the boy’s name, no matter the tone of his voice. “You’re relieved of your outdoor duties for the rest of today. I require your company indoors until you want to go home.”

Rin’s eyebrows came together and he let out an aggravated sigh. Haru noticed that he did that a lot.

“With all due respect, Haru, I’m not your servant, or your butler, or even close enough to call you an acquaintance. I’m your gardener, which means I should be in your garden trimming your shitty bushes.”

“My parents’ shitty bushes, actually,” he corrected, making Rin roll his eyes. He did that a lot, too. “And they’re only shitty because you cut that one branch that you shouldn’t have cut.”

Rin groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands before running them through his hair, a few strands falling out of his ponytail. Haru thought they would get annoying, seeing as how they were always hanging in his face and he was constantly pushing them behind his ears.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t just make it grow back,” he muttered to the ground.

Haru smiled lightly at the boy for a brief moment and thought once more about asking him to eat. He had heard his stomach growl earlier and was concerned that he wasn’t getting enough to eat during his lunch break. He lifted his head slowly pushing back the wine red strands and looking straight into Haru’s eyes.

“If you’re finished with your tantrum, I think you should try the canapé,” Haru said, gesturing toward the plate between them.

“I don’t want your damn mini sandwiches,” Rin mumbled, resting his chin on his hand and glancing at the clock above the archway leading to the front of the house.

“Rin, they don’t even look like sandwiches,” he said, pushing the platter toward him. “They’ll only go in the trash if you don’t eat them.”

“Why don’t _you_ eat them?”

“I’ll eat them if you do,” Haru said, leaning forward, demanding he meet his eyes. “It’s rude to eat in front of your guests if he isn’t eating as well.”

Rin paused, ruby eyes narrowing as they glanced to Haru’s mouth, barely turned up at the edges, then back to his eyes. His lips were slightly parted as if he was about to say something, but the words had died on his tongue.

“So, you actually do have some manners,” he said, jerking his head away. Haru plucked a canapé from the plate and held it out to Rin who stared at it curiously. “What is it?”

“It’s not going to bite you,” Haru said insouciantly, dropping it onto his open palm. “Trust me.”

He wondered what the boy was thinking as he ate it, Haru mimicking his movements and eating one as well. His expression contorted into one of surprise, eventually relaxing into one of confusion as he chewed it slowly, assumedly trying to figure out all the different tastes.

They were Haru’s favorites. He had first had them at one of the annual dinner parties when he was probably only 5 years old, when they had the first chef he could remember – many had filtered in and out over the years – and they instantly became the one thing Haru looked forward to, begging for the man to make them as often as possible. He had kept that same chef on his workforce, even when his parents had gotten a new one. No one else could make them correctly, no matter how many chefs tried, no matter how many _times_ they tried, or how many recipes they went through.

“What is it, though?” Rin asked when he had finished.

“I have no idea,” Haru said honestly, picking up another one. “My chef – not the family chef; my personal one – has been making them ever since I can remember. When I was young, I used to ask him how he made them, but he’d always answer with the same thing: “If I tell you, then you can afford to fire me, and we can’t have that.” Eventually, I stopped asking. He ended up getting fired anyway, but I keep him as my personal chef now. All because of these stupid little cracker things.”

Rin nodded, picking up another one and looking at it closely.

“Do you have a long enough break for you to eat a sufficient lunch?” Haru asked, studying Rin as he nodded again, who appeared slightly confused. “You can take a 2 hour break, if you need it; just make sure you eat enough; I can’t have you passing out from dehydration. It’s a lot of paperwork to deal with. Or, you can keep the hour and a half you have now and just eat here with me instead. Your choice,” he continued, tearing his concentration from Rin’s face and looking at the canapé in his hand, awaiting his answer.

“It’s just today that I didn’t get enough,” Rin said quietly, forcing Haru to glance back up at him. He had a small smile on his face that made Haru’s chest tighten and the corners of his lips tug upwards as well. “I was out with a friend and I was…too distracted, I guess.”

Haru didn’t reply, any trace of a smile dropping instantaneously. He stared at the boy with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. He was fully aware of the unfamiliar, bubbling discomfort in the pit of his stomach, and kept his mouth in a tight line as he waited for Rin to answer. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting him to say, or if he was expecting him to say anything at all, but he didn’t like that Rin hadn’t answered the way Haru wanted him to.

“So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep my hours,” Rin said, the smile disappearing as he glanced back up at Haru for a brief second. “I appreciate the offer, and if I’m not mistaken, don’t you leave to get lunch with the brown haired guy every other day?”

“No,” Haru retorted. “I didn’t today. He had plans.”

“Either way, Haru, I need the hours,” he shrugged.

“I’ll continue to pay you the same, even if you decide to take the 2 hour break,” Haru said.

“Why does it even matter to you?” Rin asked, his tone surprisingly sharp.

He didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t know why he cared at all. If anything, he should be bringing up the fact that he should be paying more attention to getting to work on time – he had been at least 2 minutes late 3 days in a row now – and threatening to cut his pay; not offering to give him more time on his break and keep his pay the same. Maybe his father was right – he did need those accounting classes.

“You’re my employee,” Haru said calmly, repeating the words he’d heard his parents utter so many times. “I want my employees to remain healthy and be able to work comfortably on this estate.”

“Okay, well, as much as I appreciate your offer, _boss_ , I’m declining. I’ll keep my hours the same and take my break off of the Nanase Mansion property,” he said as he stood up.

Haru could tell his irritation was mounting rather quickly, just as quickly as Haru’s, and in a moment of panic, he said, “You’re fired.”

“What?” Rin snapped. “You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can, and I did,” he said before he could stop himself.

“No, you can’t,” he said. “You can’t fire me just because I don’t take you up on an offer. What happened to, “you’re my employee, so I need you to be happy and healthy,” huh?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he deadpanned.

“That’s not the _point_ here, Haru,” Rin said, slapping his palms on the island countertop and leaning forward. His voice had dropped in volume, even though Haru could tell he was having a hard time keeping it down. “The point is that I don’t want to be here for 10 hours straight. I did that when I mowed the other day, and I can honestly say that that was the single worst day of my life, and I was hit by a car in a thunderstorm on my 6 th birthday after losing my cat, okay?”

Haru smiled at that against his will, and waited for him to continue. His voice was calming, even if he was angry, and he decided that he wanted to hear him talk more. He saw the boy’s hair fall in front of his face as they stared at one another in silence, each awaiting the other’s words. Rin’s eyes had a look of desperation in them that was almost undetectable, if it weren’t for the slight twitch of his brow giving it away.

“Look, Haru,” Rin sighed. He listened carefully to the boy’s deep voice. “I know I’m really bad at trimming bushes and it takes me 10 hours to mow your stupid lawn, but–”

“And you were two minutes late today.”

“And I was two minutes late today, but–” he repeated.

“And yesterday.”

“And yesterday, but –”

“And the day before.”

“Bullshit. I was early the day before,” Rin snapped. “Anyway, I know I’m probably one of the saddest employees you’ve had, and I don’t blame you for wanting to fire me, but I’ll get my shit together, and if it’ll insure my job, I’ll even eat lunch with you every now and then. Please, I can’t afford to lose this job so soon.”

“I just panicked,” Haru said, glancing away from the mesmerizing gaze. “I didn’t mean to fire you.”

“What were you panicking about?” Rin asked, standing up straight again – as straight as he ever stood, anyway – and pulling out his hairband to redo his ponytail. Haru shrugged, watching his fingers comb through the wine red locks. “No, you were scared that you weren’t going to get your way, weren’t you?”

“No,” Haru insisted.

“Whatever. As long as I can keep my job, I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he said, rolling his eyes and glancing at the clock again. “Can I get back to work now?”

“Don’t you want to actually eat? I had the chef make extra for lunch, if you want it,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass, if that’s okay with you.”

“Fine. If you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Haru watched him leave, listening to his quick footsteps and hearing the French doors close loudly a few seconds later. He smiled to himself. He wouldn’t have to eat alone anymore when Makoto couldn’t come over. He hoped that Rin would like it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love each and every one of your comments. It makes my day 274658425 times better every time one of you says that you like it. Thank you thank you thank you SO much!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to SouMako pt. 1

Sousuke stopped walking, glancing behind his shoulder at the empty street. The road came to a dead end in front of him, and he let out a sigh. He was too exhausted for this.

He pulled out his phone, dialing the same number he’d called 4 times already in the past hour.

“Makoto?” he said when the boy picked up. “Are you sure I was supposed to turn right?”

He just needed to get to the boy’s house to pick up some notes for final exams – and maybe study some, if Makoto was willing – and he didn’t think what should have been a 15 minute drive should have turned into a 45 minute drive and a 10 minute walk around an area of town he had never even been before. He didn’t know for sure, but he didn’t think Makoto lived this far outside of town.

“No, when you called me last time, you were at a stoplight, right?” he asked. “You turned left from there. Three stoplights later, you were supposed to turn right, then take the first left down that road. Then there was supposed to be a curve you go around until you got to a road that split –”

“I took a wrong turn about seventeen blocks ago. I’m standing next to a soybean field,” he said, cutting him off. Makoto was silent.

“Where did your car go?” he asked after a few seconds.

He didn’t reply. It was a few blocks back, stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire. He tried to call the towing company, but they couldn’t do anything for another good couple of hours.

He heard Makoto chuckle, then sigh lightly.

“I think I know where you are. I’ll come pick you up. Is there a snapped telephone pole somewhere on that street?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke mumbled. He couldn’t believe this was happening again – well, he could, but he didn’t want to. Just two weeks ago, he had gotten lost trying to get to the Nanase Mansion and ended up having to call Makoto then, too, to give him clear directions that got him there in over double the time it should have taken. This wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his Wednesday, the only day he didn’t have classes, but it was apparently inevitable. Not even the GPS on his phone could get him where he needed to go.

Makoto laughed over the phone and Sousuke smiled lightly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go back to your car. I’ll be there in a bit,” he said, hanging up.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned around, heading back toward the car. He had always been terrible with directions. He still got lost on campus of the university sometimes, which didn’t look good when he was late to class and had to tell his professor he couldn’t find his way to the building he’d been going to for the past 8 months. In high school, Rin would never let him go anywhere unless he made sure he knew where he was going; not that that was a surefire way to avoid getting lost, seeing as how it only helped in a few situations.

He wondered how Rin was doing. He was never a good employee; his attitude sucked, he had terrible work ethic, and he was in between jobs more than he had one, but he knew he had no choice but to keep this one, so he hoped he was doing well.

His last job was really a terrible fit for him. Sousuke wasn’t sure what Rin had been thinking when he got a job as a host at one of the more popular restaurants in town. He had such a short temper, and didn’t have such great people skills, especially when it came to them ordering him around. In his defense, his boss Sasabe was an asshole, so Sousuke didn’t blame him too much for wanting to quit so badly.

Rin was his best friend, and he was genuinely worried about him; he always had been. He hoped he wouldn’t piss off Haruka too much. Makoto had told him about the Nanase boy, and it sounded like they had equally bad people skills. Apparently, Haru’s and Rin’s first conversation didn’t go too well yesterday and ended with Haru almost firing Rin on the spot. Makoto said Haru had a bad habit of overreacting when things don’t go ‘according to plan,’ which Sousuke assumed was a euphemism for ‘his way.’ If he thought Haru was dramatic, he couldn’t wait for him to meet Rin.

When he got back to the car, Sousuke looked at it and sighed for the fourth time in the past 10 minutes, kicking the flat and leaning against the passenger side door. Makoto would be here soon. He would call the tow truck again later, then replace the flat tonight. At least it was just the tire and not the alternator, like last time.

Sousuke began to think he just had bad luck, and was starting to suspect that Makoto really _didn’t_ know where he was, until the familiar sleek, black car pulled up. Sousuke pulled the door open to reveal Makoto grinning madly, something Sousuke couldn’t help but to return. He climbed in and set his bag on the floor in front of him.

He didn’t say anything at first, which Sousuke was thankful for. If Makoto had been anyone else, the first words out of their mouths would undoubtedly be a jab at his terrible sense of direction, or the fact his car is useless again. However, when Makoto opened his mouth to speak a few minutes later, it was an apology.

“Sorry that I couldn’t make it on Monday,” he said, his eyes never leaving the road that eventually started to look familiar to Sousuke.

“Like I said before, don’t worry about it. We’re going out again this weekend, too,” Sousuke said, pulling out his phone that vibrated in his pocket. Rin had texted him.

**I’m going to set this prick on fire.**

He smiled and glanced at Makoto.

“I think Rin and Haru are fighting again,” he said.

“I’m not surprised,” Makoto laughed. “It couldn’t end much worse than it did yesterday, though. Did you hear about that?”

“Yeah, Rin kept me up all night bitching about it.”

“Haru didn’t say much, except that he accidentally almost fired him,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”

The rest of the car ride was quiet. It typically was with Makoto, Sousuke had noticed. He wasn’t someone that felt the urge to speak unless he was spoken to first. It was comfortable, listening to the soft pulses of the radio that played, barely loud enough for it to be heard over the sound of the tires speeding along the asphalt.

“I’m assuming you don’t live in a soybean field, or anywhere around it,” Sousuke said quietly, making conversation as they drove farther into the city and farther away from the direction he had initially been heading. He wanted to keep talking to him, but was mostly at a loss of what to say. He usually was when it was just the two of them. Makoto had an aura around him that naturally drew people in, Sousuke included.

“You assume correctly,” he laughed, glancing over at him and meeting his eyes for a brief second.

He nodded and they didn’t speak the rest of the way there, until they pulled up to a wide, two-story, white house. The driveway took half of the property, splitting and curving around a large, square fountain.

“Home, sweet home,” he beamed brightly, unbuckling and throwing the car door open. Sousuke followed dumbly, his eyes locked on the house. It was considerably smaller than the Nanase Estate – as was to be expected – but the lawn was probably just as gorgeous.

“I didn’t know you were so – um,” he said, trying to find a way to express his shock at the Tachibana wealth.

“Well off?” Makoto offered. Sousuke just nodded as the tall, double doors were opened, revealing a hallway with beige walls and two sets of winding staircases. “Not many people do. It’s not something I like to talk about. Come on, your notes are upstairs.”

Makoto led him up the stairs and through the halls, until he stopped at a set of mahogany double doors, opening them to a kind of library/study area. It was dimly lit by small lamps lining the walls, and he was in awe of all the books.

“No wonder you don’t ever study in the library on campus. You have your own right at home,” he mumbled, his feet stuck at the entrance.

“No, I still can’t study here, unfortunately,” he said, looking at the ground and running a hand through the light brown locks. “I have siblings; rather rowdy ones, at that. Anyway, come on.”

He gestured toward the large, dark wood table in the center of the room and took a seat. Sousuke took the seat next to him, placing his bag on the table next to Makoto’s.

He glanced over and caught the soft green irises for just a moment before Makoto pulled his bag onto his lap and dug around in it.

It took Sousuke a few more seconds of staring at his face to realize something was missing.

“I thought you had glasses.”

“I do,” he answered, turning back toward him with his signature smile and shoving the familiar pair of glasses onto the bridge of his nose. “I don’t like them much. Did you bring your notebook for your sociology class? I can help you go over some material, since you said you were having trouble. I took the class last year.”

He unzipped his bag and pulled out a worn, bent up, green spiral notebook, handing it to Makoto who flipped through it.

“Good. Let’s get started.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto had been going over the same material for about an hour now and Sousuke’s forehead was making a nice indent on the table from all the times he’d bashed his head against it. He tried to take a break after a few particularly loud bashes, but the boy had always refused it, saying that if he was going to pass the exam, he couldn’t afford to take breaks.

However, he didn’t want him to suffer brain damage or a cracked skull so close to finals, so he closed the spiral and set it down lightly, lowering his head to meet the sparkling, teal eyes.

“How about we take a few minutes and have a coffee or something?” he said, tilting his head at the same angle Sousuke had his on the table.

“I have to get this,” he sighed.

“And you will,” he assured him. “After coffee and some cake, yeah?”

“Okay, fine,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his red forehead with one hand and stretching the other over his head.

They got up and Makoto led them to the kitchen, where the young Tachibana siblings stood arguing over who got to lick the chocolate batter off the scraper.

“Sousuke, meet the brats, Ren and Ran,” he said, gesturing toward them. They stopped for just a minute to smile politely and say hello to the both of them, only to go back to arguing. Makoto rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the boy trailing behind him, who took everything in expressionlessly until he glanced at Makoto, a small smile breaking out onto his lips. “How do you take your coffee?”

“I’ll pass on that actually,” he said over the bickering, bringing a hand up and rubbing the back of his neck. “A glass of water is fine.”

“Sure thing,” he grinned, “But you’re not allowed to pass on the cake. I made it this morning and those two almost devoured it whole the second I turned my back. So much for trying to be a good host.”

“And what if I say I’m not a fan of chocolate?” he chuckled.

“Then it’s a good thing it isn’t chocolate, isn’t it?” he responded, holding out a glass of water. Sousuke raised an eyebrow and smirked. “They’re fighting over the scraper my mother used for the brownies.”

Makoto already knew he wasn’t a fan of chocolate, which was why he specifically made it vanilla. It had come up in a conversation a few weeks ago when the five of them had been hanging out at Chigusa’s apartment. It was supposed to be a study session, but somehow ended up being a night they shared with a bottle of whiskey. Makoto didn’t like the taste of whiskey, though. He preferred the wine the Nanases served at the dinner parties.

That reminded him.

“By the way,” Makoto said, cutting a piece of cake and handing the small plate to Sousuke, “The annual Nanase dinner party is coming up in a few weeks and everyone invited gets a plus one. I have a feeling Rin is going to be attending, so do you want to come, too?”

Sousuke didn’t reply right away, and when Makoto turned to face him, he saw that his eyebrows were knit together and his eyes were locked on his face.

“I think that would be kind of weird; just inviting a random stranger into their house,” he said.

“Oh, please, the Nanases are all about new company,” Makoto chuckled, cutting himself a piece. “You won’t be a random stranger once you meet them. You don’t have to, obviously. I’m just telling you that the offer stands.”

That was the end of that conversation, and they ate their cake in a comfortable silence on the island.

Makoto glanced over at the boy every so often, and he enjoyed seeing the coarse, blank expression melt away and be replaced with a smile or a smirk when their eyes met. It reminded him of how Haru was a lot of the time, and how he wished both of them would smile without being prompted.

Haru used to smile a lot more when he was younger – still not as much as the average child, but more than he does now – and it was one of the things Makoto never grew tired of seeing, because it was so genuine and looked so natural on him that the bored scowl on his face that he now wore permanently looked painful for him to maintain. Even after spending most of their teenage years together inseparably, he still didn’t know what made him quit smiling as much as he did back then.

He used to only smile when he swam, but lately he smiles when he watches the gardener mess up, which surprised Makoto. Haru didn’t necessarily care about the Estate’s lawn, but he knew his mother did, so he expected him to do something about it instead of smirking at the half-weeded gardens and zig-zagged mowing. It was a pleasant change, though, so he wasn’t complaining.

“I’m surprised you could read my notes,” Sousuke said suddenly, setting the empty plate down on the table. “Rin always complains that my handwriting is pretty bad.”

Makoto glanced over at him and shook his head with a chuckle.

“You don’t know bad handwriting until you’ve seen Haru’s,” he laughed, putting his plate down as well.

“Rin’s mentioned it before, but I doubt it’s that bad,” he asked.

“Yours looks elegant compared to his,” he replied. “No matter how many times his parents made him write the alphabet as a kid, it never got better. In my opinion, the more he writes, the worse it gets.”

Sousuke laughed, leaning back and glancing at his phone.

“No wonder Rin thinks Haru has it out for him,” he sighed.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually,” Makoto said. “He seemed pretty excited about being able to eat lunch with him now. He just has communication issues, which is kind of ironic, seeing as how he knows 4 languages and is in the process of learning a 5th. You’d think that he acquired some sense of social skills, but, well, I guess not.”

“You talk about him a lot,” Sousuke pointed out.

“You talk about Rin a lot,” he countered with a small smile.

“Touché,” he said, squinting slightly and nodding. “How long have you known him?”

“Our grandparents were friends, our parents are friends, so we ended up being kind of forced into a friendship,” he answered, thinking back to the first memory of Haru that he had. It was on the playground not far from here, and Haru had been sitting on the top of it with a pout on his face after losing at a game of hide and seek. “It was kind of a relieving coincidence that it worked out so well and we’ve stayed pretty close ever since. What about you and Rin?”

“We were neighbors. Our parents hated each other,” he snorted. “When they moved out – I was about 10 or so – I was convinced they moved strictly because of the fact that they couldn’t stand each other. I don’t know how we ended up getting along, because the first conversation we had was a fight in kindergarten over whether the crayon was red-violet or violet-red.”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Sometimes, but there’s a clear difference in certain brands,” he said, his expression serious, except for a hint of a small smirk that faded before he spoke again. “Anyway, he moved, and after some personal shit went down at his place, he moved in with me and my parents until he turned 16 and got his own apartment.”

“He’s been on his own for 4 years?” Makoto asked, the shock evident on his face. He never would have seen that coming. Granted, he had never met the boy personally, but he seemed to be pretty put together – maybe a bit stressed out, but who wasn’t when they were working for the Nanases?

“Yeah, but you didn’t hear it from me,” Sousuke said. Makoto nodded once. He didn’t really have anyone to tell, anyway. “Do you mind if I call the towing company again?”

“Go ahead,” he said, taking the plates. “I’ll bring these back. Do you want more water to bring upstairs?”

“Please,” he smiled, dialing and putting the phone to his ear as Makoto turned away.

It had been a while since he had company over for himself, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. Typically, when people realized that they were a big name – they owned the biggest law firm in the country, but it was under his mother’s maiden name, so most people didn’t connect it to him immediately – they treated him differently, and he didn’t like it. He saw the way people looked at Haru and he knew he hated it, like he was just an object of value rather than an actual person. He didn’t want it to come to that. It wasn’t like he was as big a name as Haru’s, but people’s attitudes still changed when they figured out he was the son of the owners of that firm.

He hoped Sousuke wouldn’t treat him any differently than he had been. He didn’t want him to. He liked hanging out with Sousuke and Seijuro, Chigusa and Ai. They treated him like the average college student working his ass off to pass his classes, and that’s what he was.

They were easy to be with, fun to be around, and he wasn’t going to let his name and wealth affect the friendships he had with these people.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SouMako pt. 2

Sousuke glanced across the lawn toward Rin, who stood with his arms crossed over his bare chest, mirroring the actions of Haruka, who was expressionless. He could only assume they were bickering over something pointless again. It was only 10 in the morning and they already had a screaming match that brought the little blond neighbor boy over to see what all the commotion was about. Makoto tried to dispel it a few times, only to be ignored immediately and walked back to Sousuke dejectedly.

“Are they ever going to get along?” Makoto sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Probably not. It’s been 15 years and Rin still fights me on basically everything,” he smiled, watching Rin’s jaw clench as Haru’s lips moved.

“I doubt that,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you guys staying for lunch?”

“I don’t think Haru is going to give us a choice.”

“True,” he chuckled. Sousuke glanced at Makoto, instantly meeting the peridot irises practically glittering in the sunlight.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses today. Out of all the times they’d hung out with the others, he tried to think of a time when he wasn’t wearing his glasses and couldn’t recall. He wondered why.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand and Makoto started to laugh.

“You just got dirt all over your face,” he said. Sousuke looked away, trying to rub it off. “You’re only making it worse. Come on, I’ll grab you a towel.”

“Is it imported?” he mumbled sarcastically.

“Custom made, actually,” he grinned, gesturing for him to follow.

He chuckled and let himself be led into the mansion, mimicking Makoto’s actions and taking his shoes off at the door.

“It was nice of you to come by and help Rin out with the gardens today,” he said, turning down one hallway and checking in a few doors.

He wasn’t going to say that one of the reasons he chose today to help was because Makoto mentioned that he’d be dropping by for a little while before work. He’d been too busy lately to hang out and Sousuke didn’t want him to feel like he was being rejected from the group.

“I only have classes in the afternoon today, so I figured I might as well see Rin in action for a bit. Besides, I think I need to meet Haru personally,” he responded as Makoto finally found the linen closet, pulling out a soft, spotless white towel with a hand-sewn _Nanase_ on the corner. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t Haruka’s fault that he was born a Nanase, obviously, and it wasn’t that he disliked Haruka. He had no opinion either way at this point. He hadn’t even met the kid, let alone had a conversation to base an opinion on. However, everything seemed so typical “rich family”: the giant estate, an Olympic pool in the backyard, the guest house, the 5 cars, the custom made towels, all up to the kid who’s standing with his arms crossed in the yard right now, pulling his employee away from his work just to tell him to do his job. It all seemed so stereotypical.

It was a different world altogether.

“Are you off this weekend?” Sousuke asked as Makoto held open the door for the bathroom (who the fuck needs a tub that big?).

“Yes, but my aunt and uncle are coming over from the States on Saturday, and my mom wants me home to spend time with them because I haven’t seen them since I was 7,” he said, his eyes falling to the ground dolefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, forcing a small smile and shrugging. He had been looking forward to this weekend. “Maybe we can just go out to lunch the two of us some other time.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he clenched his jaw and glanced at him, hoping to every god ever imagined that he would take it casually, and not like he was hitting on him; not that he hadn’t before, but this time he didn’t mean to do it. It slipped.

“Yeah,” he smiled. Sousuke sighed, running a corner (that didn’t have the embroidered Nanase name on it) under the water. “That would be great. I found a new restaurant that I think you’d like. It reminds me of the one we usually go to.”

He smiled at his reflection, relieved Makoto didn’t catch the potential low-key flirty tone to what he had said. Typical.

His interest in the boy wasn’t new, but the intensity of his fascination certainly was. They had met sometime in the middle of the first semester of last year, when Sousuke saw him at a café on campus, his nose stuck in his laptop screen and a pencil hanging from his lips. Sousuke then proceeded to bump into Rin and spill tea all over him, effectively creating an angry monster in 0.5 seconds flat. The boy with sparkling green eyes had rushed over with a handful of napkins, but Rin had already stormed off to the bathrooms, a middle finger waving around in the air. They had both been wearing university sweatshirts, and that’s where the conversation began. However, it was also where it ended – something came up at work for him. It was a stroke of luck that Chigusa was a mutual friend and had invited them both out for lunch the next week.

 He didn’t know how to approach Makoto, though. It was his presence that made him seem so welcoming, but he had a certain air about him – assumedly inherited from his lineage – that was so naturally put together that it intimidated him sometimes.

“Didn’t you say you were going to set Rin and Sei up?” Makoto asked suddenly. “How’s that going?”

“It seemed like they hit it off pretty well,” he shrugged, glimpsing at Makoto in the mirror as he scrubbed the last of the dirt from his forehead. “I guess they had lunch the day he and Haru got into it.”

“I didn’t think Rin was Sei’s type,” Makoto said, looking down with a shy smile. “I thought his type was – well, _female_.”

Sousuke laughed, because until Seijuro came out to the group, he had assumed the same.

“I forgot you missed that. He came out a few weeks back and had his eye on the waiter at some restaurant in town.”

“Gay?”

“Bisexual,” Sousuke smirked, afterwards mumbling a “For now” under his breath. “Alright, I think I’m done with this.”

He waved the towel around, scanning the bathroom for a hamper until he felt the towel be removed from his hands.

“You’ve still got some here,” Makoto chuckled, taking the damp corner and lightly scrubbing an area of his jaw.

His eyes were locked on Makoto’s face, a small smile stretched over his lips, his eyes squinting in concentration. Being this close, barely hearing each silent breath he took over the sound of his own heart pumping blood through his veins dangerously fast, being able to detect the natural scent of his house on his skin, his senses were hyperactive, and he was absolutely stunned by him. For the first time, he realized his fascination was only getting more prominent, and it was only a matter of time before this overwhelming interest led to stupid actions he wouldn’t be able to take back, likely ending in an awkward state with him.

He stood motionless until Makoto was finished, apparently getting it all off successfully.

“There you go,” he grinned.

“Thanks,” he said, nodding once and forcing away a smile. He suddenly felt like he was being asphyxiated, the peridot irises looking so gently into his own. “Anyway, I should go and uh, get ready for class.”

“Oh, already?” he asked, his eyebrows coming together with a look of disappointment that made Sousuke instantly feel guilty. “But it’s only 10:30. I thought you didn’t have class until 2. At least stick around until lunch.”

Stay with a friend he never saw anymore, potentially having it lead to a disaster he can’t escape, or go sit at home, bored out of his damn mind, stuck thinking about all the things that could go wrong keeping him around for too much longer. Damn it.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was still that early,” he said, forcing a chuckle and hoping his white lie was good enough to avoid Makoto’s suspicion.

“Good,” he smiled. “I would get bored without having someone else to talk to while Haru talks to Rin.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto led Sousuke back through the house, stopping by the laundry room to throw the dirty towel in a hamper, and then outside again. The late morning air was heavy and humid, weighing down on their lungs like they were breathing water. Sousuke instantly went back to the garden, where Rin knelt in the dirt, just as he had been before being pulled aside, and Makoto took a seat on one of the chairs he’d brought over to keep them company. Haru had slipped back inside – he hated the heat as much as he hated paperwork – but Makoto didn’t mind staying outside for a bit with Sousuke and Rin, overhearing some casual banter while he studied for his psychology exam.

“He’s an asshole,” Rin mumbled, so quietly that Makoto was sure that he wasn’t supposed to hear it. He assumed they were talking about Haru, and a small smile grew on his face. Of course Haru would be the topic of conversation. The Nanases were the types of people whose names were always in someone’s mouths – whether it was gossip or just random conversation varied depending on the group of people – and Haru knew it. He resented it; the attention, the name, the responsibility, but Makoto knew that if anyone could handle it, it would be Haru. His parents raised him to be firm, but kind, open, but not vulnerable, strong, but understanding, just as they were. He was truly fit to be the heir of the Nanase head.

“Suck it up. He’s your boss whether you like it or not,” Sousuke replied just as quietly. “From what I’ve heard from Tachibana back there, he doesn’t sound half as bad as you’re making him sound.”

“Look here, fucker,” Rin snapped, his voice considerably louder until he ducked his head back down, reverting back to a harsh whisper. “I don’t know how he’s dealt with this pain in my ass for 20 years, but if it takes _me_ 20 years to get used to him, it’s not worth it. I can’t even pick a single damn weed without him bitching at me that I picked the wrong one.”

“Rin, you were uprooting the onions,” Sousuke snapped back. Makoto chuckled behind his fist as Rin just grunted and went back to work, now plucking the weeds from the ground almost hesitantly.

He was used to people talking about Haru like Rin did, although Rin was certainly more animated than others. He wondered how many times Haru would point out Rin’s posture, or tell him to get his hair out of his face, or even shoot him a glance that pissed him off during their lunch break. He wondered what it was about the redhead that had his best friend so fixated. The only thing he was ever this obsessed with was the canapés his chef had been making ever since he could remember.

He had claimed it was the fact that Rin had an attitude with him and it pissed him off, and that he needed to get him into shape before his parents got home and saw that he sucked at everything related to yard work, but Makoto saw the tug at the corner of his lips whenever he watched the boy do his work.

“Rin,” Makoto said suddenly, closing his book, but keeping his finger on the page. The wine red ponytail whipped around. “I heard you’ve been hanging out with Seijuro lately. Won’t that get a bit difficult, now that Haru is keeping you here for lunch?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like there’s much I can do about it,” he said, reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck, but thought better of it when he realized the dirt coating his gloves. “It really sucks, because I think he’s a great guy. I would love to spend more time with him, but, y’know. He seemed pretty cool about it when I told him, though, so that’s a plus.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, smiling sympathetically. He knew what it was like, being restricted from seeing the people you want to be with because of responsibilities.

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged. “You aren’t the one who threatened to fire me for not eating lunch with you.”

Makoto winced slightly at the bitterness in his voice.

“Rin, shut up. That’s his best friend. Don’t be an asshole,” Sousuke said, slapping the back of his head.

“Fuck off, Yamazaki,” Rin bit lightly, slapping his hand away. “Sorry, though. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I understand,” Makoto said with a slight shrug. “He can be a bit, well, hard to comprehend. He doesn’t take a liking to many people, so when he does, he doesn’t really know how to _not_ be – how you would say – ‘asshole-ish.’”

“When will he be making his next appearance out here? I want to meet this kid,” Sousuke said, standing up and stretching.

“I doubt he’ll come out for anything, unless Rin can manage to find something else to piss him off,” Makoto chuckled. “I don’t think that will be too hard, though.”

Rin pursed his lips and sighed.

“Hold on,” he said, standing up and throwing the gloves on the ground. “Stay there.”

“Where are you going?” Sousuke called as Rin jogged toward the pool.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, no,” Makoto said, his eyes growing wide at the realization. “Rin! Rin, do not do that, please!”

“What’s he going to do?”

“He’s going to get in the pool. He’s getting into the pool in his street clothes without showering first. Haru is going to kill him,” he said quickly, setting his book onto the chair and calling Rin’s name until Haru’s voice came bellowing from inside.

“What in fuck’s name do you think you’re doing?” Haru screamed across the lawn, just before Rin jumped in, his head going under the water at the last syllable. “Makoto!”

“You said you wanted to meet him, right?” Makoto said quietly, turning to Sousuke with a nervous smile.

“Maybe I’ll wait,” he said, staring straight at the boy with a clenched jaw and tight fists, stomping over to them.

“What the _fuck_ did he just do?” Haru hissed.

“It looks like he jumped in the pool,” Makoto said calmly, “But it’s okay. He’s the one who’s cleaning it, right?”

“That wasn’t on the list today. Today he wasn’t supposed to even go _near_ the pool,” he said, a bit more composed. “One thing after another, I swear to God.”

“Maybe you need to loosen your grip on him a little bit,” he suggested.

“I can’t. My parents are coming home tomorrow and there’s no way in hell he’s going to have the garden up to my parents’ expectations. They might fire him, because I’m pretty sure they were initially expecting someone with at least _some_ prior knowledge of what a weed looks like and what a green onion sprout looks like,” he ranted, tugging on his hair. Makoto had only ever seen him like this once before, during a period of time that Haru refused to talk about, and he was still confused about that part of Haru’s life because of his reluctance. All he knew was that it was the most expressive he’d ever been known to be.

“If you’re worried about him losing his job, maybe you should help him out,” he said, carefully removing Haru’s hands from his scalp.

“I do. That’s why I’m back out here, because he needs to focus on getting his work done for today instead of intentionally pissing me off and screwing around.”

Makoto sighed and stepped away. There was a silence that felt rather uncomfortable to him until a very wet Rin jogged over with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Hey, Haru. I’m glad you’re here; there’s someone who wants to meet you,” he said smugly.

“Rin, don’t push it,” Sousuke snapped.

“Do you think this is a joke, Rin?” Haru said, his voice even and composed like the typical Haru.

“What? No, I want you to meet my best friend. You came out to scream at me to never go near your pool again, I know, save your priceless breath,” Rin said, his tone still joking. “Sousuke, meet my boss, Haruka Nanase. Haru, this is Sousuke Yamazaki.”

“Nice to meet you, Sousuke,” Haru said, forcing his features to relax and deliver the rehearsed greeting tone he’d had memorized from the day he could speak.

“The pleasure is mine, Haru,” Sousuke said, his teeth shining brightly with the genuine smile that stretched across his lips.

“I apologize that this is our unfortunate first encounter, but please, make yourself at home. Makoto, why don’t you bring him inside and we can all take a break and settle things calmly,” he said. Makoto nodded and gestured for Sousuke to follow. Picking up his book bag, they both headed inside.

He was worried for both Haru and Rin. They were wild cards, erratic in their behaviors, and from what he’d seen so far, basically completely incompatible. They were like fire and ice, and Makoto wasn’t sure how long they could go about like this, purposely egging each other on, bickering and backbiting. Haru wasn’t as calm and collected as he always seemed to be. Makoto knew the whirlpool of emotions he kept behind the faceless, impassive expressions, and he also knew that it scared Haru.

“So much for a good first impression, huh?” Makoto said, grinning lightly back at Sousuke as they took their shoes off and headed for the plush living room.

“It wasn’t his fault. I think Rin is purposely being an asshole,” he said, an annoyed grimace on his features. “I think he’s actually really pissed off about having to skip his lunch break with Sei.”

Makoto just nodded along, because he knew the feeling. He didn’t know what it was like to be forced by another person to not see someone, but he knew how it felt to be restricted, and he’d never want anyone to feel so weighed down and limited by something outside his control.

“I’ll get some water boiling for tea. We need to find a day that works for both of us so we can get lunch, like you promised,” he said, changing the topic as smoothly as he could and backtracking through the house and heading for the kitchen.

The last thing he needed was for Rin and Haru to walk in as he and Sousuke were talking about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be going back to RinHaru after this, just to keep you guys up to date. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday, so have an update, yeah? <3

Rin stood in front of Haru, his face just as expressionless as the blue-eyed boy across from him. His stomach flipped with nerves, knowing what he did was going to have major consequences, ones that may include getting fired. He was afraid, but just meeting the ocean blue irises calmed him down significantly.

“Rin, you were supposed to finish weeding the gardens today,” he said calmly.

“I was,” he said, trying not to glance down guiltily. He really did feel bad about acting so rashly, and had he been thinking clearly, he wouldn’t have done something so pointlessly stupid.

“Then you shouldn’t have been in the pool,” he replied. “Rin, look at me.”

He had turned his head away, but instantly looked back at him upon hearing his name.

“My parents will be back tomorrow. I don’t want you to get fired; do you understand that?” he asked. Rin thought it was rhetorical until Haru raised his eyebrows questioningly. He nodded. “I’m trying to help you, but you can’t seem to focus or even act maturely enough to finish your job today. I don’t know if it’s because your friend is over, or if Makoto is talking too much, or whatever, but _I don’t want my parents to fire you_.”

“You think I’m distracted? And that’s why I’m purposely pissing you off?” Rin asked, feeling his stomach tighten and his heartbeat quicken in a dull irritation. Haru simply nodded. “Have you ever considered that I actually _hate_ being forced to skip out on the hour and a half break I have to myself – or so I thought – and possibly even have a short lunch date with someone? That I have some sort of small, insignificant life outside of being your gardener?”

Haru didn’t answer, but his swirling irises stayed locked on Rin’s, and his features softened after a few minutes.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Rin said, dropping his head and rubbing the back of his neck, his ponytail still dripping wet. “It was kind of extreme and the whole pool thing _was_ just to piss you off, and I know that it isn’t the job of an employer to take in the feelings of their employees, but I would appreciate, since you’re basically taking away my break, to consider the way I feel.”

He sighed heavily, somewhat relieved that he’d gotten the swift apology off his chest, and tried to avoid Haru’s gaze as long as possible, but just like the first few days, he could feel the eyes raking over his features, and he quickly began to feel very self-conscious.

He knew Haru didn’t want to fire him – he’d gathered that much – but he felt there was something more to it than just “he’s new and different, I want him to stay longer.” If it was just that, Haru would simply convince his parents to keep him around. However, Haru was taking the action upon himself to make sure Rin was doing the work properly so that he wouldn’t even be running the risk of getting fired.

He almost smiled to himself before he caught it, wiping any trace away and focusing back on the striking blue irises.

“It’s alright,” Haru said quietly in the professional tone that he was so fond of using in conversations like these. “You need to take more initiative, though. My parents are lenient, but this garden is my mother’s pride and joy, and I want to keep it that way for her.”

“It’s in good hands,” Rin said, almost sarcastically.

“It could be, if you listened to me trying to help you,” he replied.

“Help?” Rin chuckled. “You just yell that I’m doing it wrong.”

“In my defense, you were pulling the onions out of the ground,” Haru said. “I didn’t think anyone could mistake onions for weeds. It honestly baffled me.”

Rin clenched his jaw and looked away with a slight pout on his lips and his face heating up.

“However, if you need more hands-on help, I’d be willing to oblige,” he continued. “I hate yard work, but as long as it gets done and gets done _properly_ , I’ll do it until you get the hang of it.”

He glanced up at Haru who was staring intently straight into his eyes, and he could have sworn he saw the oceans crashing in the soft, cool blue irises. He was distracted for a moment too long, Haru clearing his throat to get his attention back.

“No, really, I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” he said, scanning the yard to avoid meeting his gaze again. “I’ve gotten the hang of some things, like scrubbing the pool –”

“Which you won’t get the privilege of doing anymore,” Haru interjected.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands out. “I only did it so you would come out here.”

“Why did you want me to come out here?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Because Sou was asking when he got to meet you and was too impatient to wait for lunch,” Rin shrugged. “And then Makoto said that the only way you would come out in this heat was if you were bitching at me for something, so –”

“Makoto doesn’t swear.”

“You get my point. So, I took that as ‘Rin needs to piss Haru off so he gets his ass out here.’ It worked,” he said, his voice trailing off near the end.

“You could have just asked me to come outside,” he said. Rin’s eyes darted back to him, his eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“But Tachibana said –”

“ _You_ could have just asked me to come outside,” he repeated, his smooth features still expressionless. “Yes, I hate the heat. Yes, I hate being outside if I’m not in the water, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t come outside if I have a reason to.”

“So, you honestly think you would have come outside if I would have just asked you to?”

“Yes, I would have,” he said firmly, “If you had a genuine reason for me to – which you did.”

_This fucking kid_.

He confused Rin, the way he could go from a raving, angry mess of screaming and hair tugging and rambling to a beautiful, composed creature that looked like he belonged within the hand-crafted walls. He was astonishing and complex, and Rin wanted to know more. As much as Haru pissed him off, he wanted to pick apart the infrastructure of his mind, figure out _how_ he thought and _what_ he thought. He wanted to hear stories of people he’d never heard of before, people who lived just as extravagant lives as Haru did.

But he was still pissed off.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, tearing his eyes once again from the boy standing across from him, hands in his back pockets. His black t-shirt was unbuttoned at the top exposing his collarbone and successfully distracting Rin quite easily, seeing as how his gaze would automatically drift back to his neck, following the single vein that stuck out on his neck just barely, disappearing under the collar of the shirt.  “Sou is still waiting to actually have a conversation with you, though.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, “But I think Makoto is keeping him far better company than I would be.”

“You can say that again,” Rin mumbled.

“Well, it’s not like you made a good first impression on Makoto, either,” he said, almost defensively.

Rin smirked a bit at that.

“That wasn’t a first impression. The first impression was Sou spilling an entire cup of boiling hot tea down my back and me screaming at him while he just stared with fucking doe eyes at your boy. That was his first time seeing me.”

“Wait,” Haru said, his eyes getting a bit wider. “Sousuke? He’s _gay_?”

“You couldn’t tell? Jesus, the boy screams gay every time he walks out the freakin’ door,” Rin laughed. Then he stopped, quite abruptly. What if Haru was homophobic? If he was, what would he do if he found out Rin was gay, too? “Oh, shit. You’re not, like, homophobic are you?”

“No,” Haru said, shaking his head quickly. “I just – just didn’t expect him to like Makoto.”

“Why the hell do you think he’s here, hanging out in the blistering heat, picking weeds out of a stranger’s garden?” he asked.

“I thought he just liked doing yard work,” he replied impassively, turning his head away and tilting his chin up.

“No one likes doing yard work; what the fuck?” Rin whispered incredulously. Haru had yet to cease to amaze him with every word that came from his mouth.

“You never know,” he mumbled. “Besides, you have no room to talk. You thought onions were weeds.”

“Sorry I wasn’t trained in weeding,” Rin said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. He felt a lot more comfortable when he was talking to Haru like this; the playful bickering, the unbelievable comments he let slip, and the simple conversation, each one showing Rin another piece of Haru. He felt that he was beginning to unravel him, and it felt even more satisfying than the fact that he was starting to be able to read his horrifying handwriting rather quickly now.

“It’s too hot out here,” Haru said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and turning on his heel toward the door. “Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please.”

“Gross.”

 

* * *

 

Haru led the boy into the house, both taking their shoes off at the door and heading to the kitchen where Sousuke and Makoto sat at the island laughing where Rin and Haru had been just two days ago, eating ratatouille with Mousse au Chocolat for dessert. Haru enjoyed the company, seeing as Makoto was too busy at ‘work’ to go out to lunch.

They went quiet as the pair entered the room.

“I started some water for tea,” Makoto said cautiously, glimpsing at Sousuke out of the corner of his eye.

“I’ll get the coffee going, then,” Haru said, nodding once, silently thanking Makoto as he placed a mug underneath the coffee filter and filled it with water. Rin threw himself lazily onto the barstool next to his best friend. Oh, yeah, he had to talk to him. “Sousuke, what do you do for a living?”

He looked taken aback at the straightforwardness of the question, but recovered quickly, smiling over at Makoto. He could see what he meant when Rin said he screamed gay.

“I’m a student in the same year as Makoto at the University in town,” he said, meeting Haru’s eyes again. “I’m undecided on my major. I work part-time at the high school as a swimming coach.”

“Swimming?” Haru asked, suddenly finding Sousuke relatively interesting.

“Yeah, I used to swim competitively, but then I fucked up my shoulder my final year of high school,” he said, wincing. “Lost a scholarship, was stuck in the hospital all vacation before my first year of Uni; it sucked.”

Haru nodded, waiting to see if he would continue. He seemed like the person who would talk about themselves a lot.

When he didn’t continue, Haru turned to Rin.

“What do you do?” he asked blankly. Rin looked even more shocked at the question than Sousuke had been, causing the other two to laugh.

“What do you mean, what do I do?” he said, his eyes squinted and his arms thrown out to the sides.

“I mean, what do you do?” he repeated.

“I devote my life to uprooting your onions and fucking up your bushes,” he said flatly, the shock falling from his features and leaving him looking almost bored. “What about you?”

“I point out the fact that you’re ruining my garden and clipping the wrong branches on my bushes,” he said. Rin tried to hide a cringe by crossing his arms across his chest – which now had a tight, white V-neck covering it – but Haru caught it, and thought nothing of it.

“Pretty boring, if you ask me,” Rin mumbled.

“It is.”

There was a pause in the conversation, the echoes of the last words spoken still ringing in the air, bouncing off the tiles.

Haru couldn’t tear his gaze away from the red irises that locked on his, so calmly, so deeply. He had fire in them, a burning passion Haru wanted to see. The fire wasn’t the rage he was so prone to displaying. It was…something else; something stronger, but far more delicate. Haru wanted to know what it was. He wanted to have it, too.

The tea kettle began to screech, causing the 4 of them to jump at the sudden high-pitched sound.

“Oh, good,” Makoto beamed, stepping off the stool and removing the kettle from the heat. “Who wants tea? Rin?”

“No, thank you,” he said, his nose turning up at the mention of tea.

Before Haru could even open his mouth to say anything, Makoto cut in.

“I know you do, Haru,” he chuckled. “I was asking Rin.”

Makoto pulled 3 mugs out of the cabinet above the stove. The coffee was done, the dark aromatic liquid steaming from the onyx mug as he handed it to the redhead, who put it on the island quickly. He didn’t take any sugar that Makoto set out for Sousuke, so Haru assumed he like it black. Gross.

The tea took some time to peak, but once it did and Makoto handed them all the same onyx mugs, Haru went to the fridge and took out a platter of macarons of assorted colors. They were going to be for dessert, but he figured if anything would act as a peace offering to Rin, it would be the macarons. He’d call his chef in to make a different dessert. Or maybe they could go out.

“What are those?” Rin asked curiously, picking up a pink one and squishing some of the middle out of it.

“Macarons,” Makoto answered for him. “They’re really good. It’s Haru’s recipe, actually.”

“You cook?” he asked, shock coloring his features once again. “I thought you couldn’t, and that’s why you have like, 7 chefs.”

“I only have 2,” Haru said, picking up a dark blue one and squeezing it lightly between his forefinger and thumb. “And I can’t cook. I can bake; only macarons, though. It’s also not my recipe. It’s my personal chef’s, but the taste always seemed off whenever he tried sweets. I only tweaked it to my liking.”

“Are they different flavors?” Sousuke asked, picking up a green one.

“The green is pistachio, the light brown is caramel, the blue is blueberry, the pink one is raspberry, and the white one is almond,” Makoto said, pointing at each one individually. They were grouped on the platter by color, and Rin had knocked a green one with his pinky, nudging it into the white area. Haru pushed it back into place.

“These are incredible,” Rin said after tasting a few. Haru thought he liked the caramel ones best. He’d had two of those and tended to stay away from the white ones.

“Did you change the recipe again, Haru?” Makoto asked, focusing on a pistachio one. “The texture is different.”

He shook his head and watched a smile grow on Rin’s face as he picked up a blue one.

“These are like your eyes when you’re mad at me,” he said, holding it up to Haru’s face and closing one eye. “They get really dark and shit.”

Haru picked up a pink one and held it up to Rin’s cheek.

“These are like your cheeks whenever I catch you staring at me,” he deadpanned, watching his cheeks go red again, but his features tightening in irritation and embarrassment. He didn’t feel too bad.

“You’re always staring at me,” he said, shoving the small pastry into his mouth. “I think I have a right.” It was muffled and if it were any other person, Haru would have been utterly disgusted, but because it was Rin, it seemed almost endearing. He looked like a pouty 7 year old. Haru smiled. “See? You’re doing it again. Jesus, if you didn’t have me on a leash, I would tell you to take a picture, because it’d last longer.”

Makoto and Sousuke had delved into their own conversation, occasionally glancing up at the two bickering. Haru didn’t pay them much mind. He was significantly more interested in the boy in front of him.

“Where do you live?” he asked, interrupting Rin and causing him to look offended, then sighed because honestly, he was probably getting used to it. Haru felt slightly bad for that.

“Across town, about a 15 minute walk, maybe,” he shrugged. “Shouldn’t you know all of this? Haven’t you looked over my resume? I’m pretty sure your parents ran a background check on my entire life during the time they spent grilling me with questions about my life.”

“They’ve been pretty wary about who they hire ever since they had an American try to burn their guest house down,” Makoto said with a chuckle. “Your poor father spent years trying to make that house a carbon copy of Elvis Presley’s.”

“I should have given that one a bonus for trying,” he mumbled, taking a drink of the piping hot green tea. “That house is hideous.”

“I heard he’s out of jail,” Makoto said.

“Elvis?” Haru asked.

“No, the American gardener,” he said. “Haru, Elvis has been dead for decades.”

“Rest in peace,” he said. “If only his house was resting with him.”

Rin laughed. The other two did as well, but Haru only heard Rin’s laughter and he was instantly taking in the soft expression on the boy’s face as his eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks dusted pink, his lips wider than he’d ever seen them. His teeth were a beautiful, pure white; not as white as Makoto’s, though. No one’s were as bright as Makoto’s. Makoto whitened weekly. His canines looked dangerously sharp, and Haru wondered if he ever got into fights and ended up biting people in self-defense. It seemed like a good tactic.

“Anyway,” Makoto sighed, one last chuckle escaping, “Have you called the chef from France to confirm the date for the dinner?”

Oh.

“I forgot,” he said, looking away from the gazes he was getting from them.

“And the airport to make sure his flight is still good to go?”

“I forgot,” he repeated. He really hated making calls, but he had to make sure he had the French bastard come along with his own cooks, because none of them here spoke French. He also needed to do it, because his parents did everything else. He had to do his share this year, and that happened to be taking charge of the staff.

Makoto started talking again, probably something about how he needed to do that as soon as possible, because his parents were counting on him or something, but he blocked him out. He knew all of that already.

He barely heard the words of the redhead, focused solely on the sound of his deep voice talking to Sousuke quietly, so that he wouldn’t interrupt Makoto.

“I’m going to make the calls,” he said, cutting both Rin and Makoto off and leaving the room swiftly, taking his phone from his pocket and dialing the number his father had left him.

He was distracted by Rin’s laugh again as he stood in the living room, almost missing the husky, French man answer the phone.

The plans were running smoothly so far, and after a quick call to confirm the flight, Haru returned to the others, feeling more relieved that he’d gotten it off his chest.

One less thing to worry about getting done before his parents got home.

Rin smiled at him when he came back. Haru returned it, and he could have sworn his heart stopped for just a short second.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, THANK YOU ALL SO SO MUCH FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISHES! I read every single one and you made my day, each time one of you commented. Second off, this chapter physically pained me because there was so much Rin/Seijuro and I'm kind of sorry but not really, because it's all a part of my plan.  
> SO, that being said, enjoy!  
> P.S. skinny dipping Haru will make a reappearance later in the story and I am so excited

“Let the fuck go,” Rin said, squirming around and swatting at the hands that tried to take out the hairband from his ponytail.

“I just need to use it for a second,” Seijuro said, not even bothering to cover up the laugh that escaped from his lips. It was a lazy laugh, one that made Rin smile blissfully, relaxing into the arms of the boy with sparkling honey irises.

“No, you’re lying,” he said. “You’re going to take it and not give it back, because you hate my ponytail.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his lips dangerously close to the shell of Rin’s ear, causing him to shiver when his breath ghosted over his neck. “I happen to think you look extremely sexy with it.”

They were in Seijuro’s kitchen, a tangled up mess of limbs sprawled out on the floor, pushing away invading hands and tugging obstructive hair. It was Friday night and the taste of cheap wine was stuck on the roof of Rin’s mouth. It tasted like Seijuro, who had delicately kissed him a few hours earlier before lighting a cigarette. The first time, his lips were silky and tasted like peppermint. Now, after a few hours, Rin’s head was buzzing, filled with the feeling of tipsy kisses and trailing fingers.

He hadn’t realized he’d tensed up until Seijuro’s fingers trailed slowly up his chest and around his neck, twirling the ends of the ponytail. He finally let him pull the hairband out, the fine red strands immediately falling into his eyes. Seijuro pushed them away, his fingers weaving through the locks and tugging gently, getting caught on a knot here and there.

“If you like it, then why did you take it out?” he asked, his eyes fluttering shut and his body melting tranquilly into the other boy’s arms. He thought that after a few minutes, laying on the hardwood floor like this would be uncomfortable, but it was quite the opposite. The cool floors felt incredible against his burning skin and Seijuro was a good distraction from the numbness he felt in his right leg. He felt better than he had in a long time.

“I wanted to see you without it,” he said, the honey irises dancing slowly over his features. “You’re always wearing it around me.”

His gaze settled on Rin’s lips and he leaned in slowly, deliberately, pressing his mouth to Rin’s, who smiled minimally at the sweetness of his tongue, trailing along the inside of his lower lip. It was almost slow enough to be experimental, had he not been so confident doing it. Then he pulled away, Rin’s eyes fluttering open, immediately searching for the golden irises.

“Getting tired?” Seijuro asked, lacing his fingers through Rin’s hair at the back of his neck. He shivered, leaning into the boy’s touch.

“No, I’m just so fucking exhausted,” he sighed, his eyes closing once again. His head rested on the cool hardwood floor and he intertwined his legs even further with Seijuro’s, his right leg cringing with the pinpricks that shot through it. “Haru is exhausting.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled. There was a short silence, just the shallow, even breaths of the two boys intertwined on the dimly lit kitchen floor. “Stay here tonight. It’s too late for you to walk home. I’ll open the futon in my room.”

“I’m not a teenage girl, Sei,” Rin grinned. “I can walk home without getting nabbed off the streets.”

“I’m just saying,” he said quietly. Rin’s eyelids opened lazily, his stomach twisting at the blissful tone in the boy’s voice. “I would love your company.”

He pursed his lips and thought about taking him up on the offer. He really wasn’t in the mood to walk all the way home at midnight. He’d already have to go back home to change for work bright and early the next morning just to walk this way again toward Haru’s.

“Alright, but I probably won’t be able to stick around to see you in the morning,” he said. “Tomorrow is a somewhat important day at the Nanase Mansion.”

“Yeah?”

Rin nodded.

“Haru’s parents are coming back and he’s terrified I’m going to get fired,” he said, wincing slightly at the underlying fear of being let go so soon.

“Why does he care? He could just get a new employee,” Sei asked, pulling back and looking into the ruby red eyes curiously.

“I have no idea,” he shrugged, “But apparently, he isn’t going to let them fire me so easily, if it comes to that. I don’t get it either.”

“Maybe he’s in love with you,” Sei drawled sarcastically, dragging his fingernails down Rin’s sides.

He twisted away from his touch and laughed.

“I don’t think he’s capable of feeling anything except boredom and irritation.”

“Go easy on the kid, damn,” Sei chuckled, trailing his hands up Rin’s back. “I’m sure he’ll ease up eventually.”

Rin’s fingers were drawing mindless shapes on Seijuro’s chest, his eyes following the tips of his fingers and the way his shirt wrinkled and pulled with the shapes.

“Come on,” Sei said, pulling back a bit. “I’ll pull the futon out for you. You need to sleep.”

Rin sighed, not wanting to get out of the comfortable position they had gotten into, but pushing himself up, his vision blurring slightly with the quick movement. Seijuro was already up, stretching out and cracking his neck, a small smile etched onto his face. He reached out, offering Rin a hand to help him up. He took it, standing up and stepping toward the boy, momentarily frozen in place by the close proximity and intensity of his gaze and the softness of his eyes. He kissed him deeply, just once, before pulling away and smiling.

He led Rin to his bedroom, setting up the black leather futon and throwing a spare blanket and pillow on it. Then he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of gray sweatpants, tossing them to Rin.

“Make yourself at home,” he grinned. “I’ll be right back. You can change here.”

“Thanks,” Rin said, returning the smile and watching Seijuro leave.

It felt oddly comfortable, standing in his room wearing his sweatpants after just being curled up on his kitchen floor, tangled together because they were both content just lying there. He never had something like that before. He liked it. It’d been such a short period of time, but he could genuinely say that he liked being with Seijuro. It was comfortable, and it felt like for the first time, someone other than Sousuke was on his side, was happy with him being himself, and it was so relieving to know that.

Before Rin could stop it, he thought, just for a fleeting second, what if Haru was on his side, too? What if there was some reasoning behind the way he acted so coldly? What if he was sincerely – if only just a little bit – attached to Rin in some misconstrued way and truly didn’t want to lose him?

It was strange, discomforting, and Rin shook his head, unfolding the thin blanket and spreading it over the futon, climbing under it and spreading out. He didn’t need to worry about Haru. He was his boss. He could handle himself just fine, and even though he doesn’t want Rin fired, that doesn’t mean that he would be completely and utterly discouraged and _miss_ him if he left. He would just be replaced, and Haru would be just as worried about the new gardener as he was about Rin.

Seijuro wandered in a bit later with a glass of water in his hand, setting it down on his side table.

“Just in case,” he said, slipping into his bed. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll see you sometime next week.”

Rin hummed in confirmation, already feeling sleep wash over him, making his eyelids heavy and his thoughts foggy.

He remembered thinking of Seijuro’s eyes and how calming they felt, and then he remembered Haru’s eyes, igniting something so unfamiliar, so pure and overwhelmingly powerful inside of him every time their eyes met. It was something completely opposite of the way Seijuro made him feel, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he disliked it or not. It exploded inside of him, made him feel like there was something more than what the ocean blue eyes let shine through. He wanted to know what they were hiding.

This time, Rin didn’t shake off the thoughts, but paid attention to the smallest details of his almost dreams until finally, he fell asleep, forgetting his dreams entirely.

The next morning, he woke up too early – he couldn’t find his phone to check, but he could tell; it was still dark outside. Seijuro was still fast asleep on the bed next to him, his eyes shut peacefully and his lips parted just barely, the occasional snore escaping his throat.

Rin smiled to himself, soundlessly getting up and folding the blanket. There was no use in sticking around. He’d rather be early and get a head start on his work for today than be late and not have enough time to fix and perfect what needed to be done. He had to at least try to keep his job, even though he trusted Haru to not let his parents fire him.

He wondered what his parents were like. He had only met them once during the interview he had with them. He told them he didn’t have much experience in gardening, but they were pretty adamant on assuring him that he was going to be perfect for the job. They seemed so real compared to how Rin expected them to be. Their property was more stereotypical than the devil as a little red man with horns, but they were oddly – well – normal.

He was strangely eager to get to work that day.

 

* * *

 

Haru lied awake that night, sleepless and uncomfortable in his bed. It was well past midnight and his eyes were heavy, but he couldn’t shake the sickness churning in his stomach.

Rin left on a significantly brighter note than he had come, and just knowing that eased Haru’s nerves greatly. He had gotten a lot done today and even he was impressed with the way he had shaped up after a break and a few minutes of conversation. Maybe he was being overbearing, keeping him there over his lunch break, but he didn’t think Rin would hate it so much. He wanted to spend time with him, and this was the only way he knew how, but maybe he should give him his lunch break back.

Another wave of nausea rolled through him, and he sighed, closing his eyes and resting his arm on his forehead. He really didn’t want Rin to leave if he didn’t have to. What he said was still bugging Haru.

“A short lunch date with someone.”

Was that a hypothetical statement, or did he have someone in mind to actually have a lunch date with? He couldn’t have been talking about Sousuke – he wouldn’t have been so upset if he was; Sousuke was already there.

He kicked the sheets off, the cool air hitting his body and sending a shiver down his spine, goosebumps forming on his flesh. He tied a towel around his bare waist and headed outside for a short swim. It was his last chance to swim freely for a while, seeing as how from here on out would be work, classes, work, dinner party prep, classes, work, and more work. He couldn’t wait until his parents gave him the go-ahead to get his own house. He wondered when that would happen, if it ever did. They needed someone to keep the house under their family name, and because he was the only son, he would be the one inheriting it – he and his wife.

Haru cringed at the thought of spending the rest of his life with Nanako, dropping his towel at the door of the pool house and rinsing off in the showers sufficiently before grabbing an inflatable ring and jumping in, the cool water bringing him under, clinging to his bare skin and making his body rack with the shock of the cold.

The air was humid, even at this time of night, and the stars were shining with a vibrancy that he’d only seen a few times before – he didn’t go out at night much.

He swam for a bit, back and forth, lazily making rounds along the sides. They needed scrubbed again, but he’d worry about that a different day. Tomorrow was the day Rin would have to trim the leaves on the ivy growing along the house and maybe he’d get started on mowing, if he had enough time after finishing weeding.

Eventually, he drifted over to the pool ring, slipping inside of it and letting it carry him wherever it tended to float. His eyes stayed locked on the stars.

He wondered if Rin liked the stars. He wondered if Rin ever tried to steal a star like Makoto did when they were 4 – he had sworn if they could just get high enough, they’d be able to grab just one.

Haru thought a lot about Rin that night. He thought about the softness of his eyes, framed by the finer hairs of his wine red bangs, the slender, calloused fingers that were always messing with something, the way his cheeks tinted when he laughed and how smooth his skin looked. He wondered if he’d ever know the feeling of his skin under his fingertips.

His eyes closed at some point, before he could stop them, and when he opened them again, they met with the piercing red irises looking down at him. He was upside down, though, and Haru eventually noticed the tightness in his neck from keeping it arched back so uncomfortably.

Rin’s eyes opened wider than Haru had ever seen them before, and he staggered back from the edge of the pool.

“Shit,” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, I just got here and there was no note on the gate to tell me what I was supposed to do, so when I knocked and no one answered, I assumed ‘where the fuck else would he be?’ and – why the _fuck_ are you naked?”

Haru had rolled off the pool ring during Rin’s rambling, his own face growing quite hot at the realization that Rin had been watching him, but felt oddly flattered and possibly even turned on, had the chill of the pool water not shocked him back to reality. Rin had asked him a question, and Haru was looking up at him, his toes barely grazing the bottom of the pool while half his face was still submerged.

“Late night skinny dip,” he said flatly.

“Late ni – Haru, it’s 7 in the morning,” he yelled. At least it sounded like he was yelling, noting how his voice echoed quite beautifully off the surface of the water.

“Why didn’t you wake me up as soon as you saw me? Or screamed bloody murder for me like the last time you were looking for me?” he asked, drifting to the edge and pushing himself out. Rin already saw him once. A few more seconds wouldn’t kill him.

“I didn’t – I don’t – I don’t know,” he spluttered. “It was still early and I didn’t want to disturb anyone, I guess.” His face was as red as his hair and his fingers were clenching together relentlessly in front of him.

Haru tied the towel back onto his waist, observing the wrinkles on his own fingers. He still hated that feeling.

He didn’t answer at first, trying his best to seem unperturbed by Rin’s presence.

“Ivy,” he said simply, heading for the pool house.

“Huh?”

“The ivy,” he repeated, jerking his head toward the mansion. “It needs to be taken care of. The ladder is in the garage.”

“That’s it?” he asked.

“If you have time, you can mow,” he suggested, throwing the door open and stepping inside to rinse the feeling of chlorine off his skin. He had a few hours before his parents got home, and in that time, he had to call the maid over to clean the house, shower and get ready for their arrival, make sure the Hazukis were still coming over for dinner tonight, and take one last look at the paperwork his father had left him, in case he asked about it.

As soon as the door shut, he heard a low groan escape Rin’s throat. He smiled to himself. Maybe he’d be too exhausted to walk home today and willingly stay for lunch. He’d still let him go, though. If that was what he wanted, Haru decided he would get over the dreaded feeling of being alone in the house. Today would be a good day for him to take his lunch break off the property, however, seeing as how his parents could be relatively suffocating when it came to guests.

When he walked back out, he didn’t see Rin, so he took his time walking to the house, immediately heading upstairs to take a bath and get ready. By the time he was finished, it was about time for breakfast and wondered if the chef had dropped in to make it yet or not. He did, and left the puffy, steaming omelet with thin slices of potatoes on the island where Haru usually sat. He wasn’t in the mood for eggs, but ate them anyway, sighing when he dropped a piece of omelet on his white button-up. He decided to check on how Rin was doing after cleaning up, heading upstairs to look out his window.

He still didn’t see him and his eyebrows came together in confusion. Where could he have gone? He couldn’t have just left, could he?

Haru’s chest clenched, and he threw the window open, sticking his head out and looking around frantically, swallowing a gasp when he saw Rin’s face, far too close, as soon as he turned his head to the right.

“Oh, Jesus,” Rin yelped, nearly falling off the ladder, but grasping onto the windowsill at the last second. “What the fuck was that for?”

Haru felt his face go red, and he looked away, trying to reclaim his look of impassivity.

“I wanted to make sure you were still here,” he said, his eyes locked on the door of the guest house across the yard.

“Where else would I have gone?” he scoffed, turning back toward the vines growing along the house and trimming the end of it.

Haru didn’t reply; just twisted back to face the boy who was focused on the ivy. His skin reflected the sun beautifully, and he realized that watching him from afar like he had at the beginning was nothing compared to seeing him this close, to watching the twitch of his eyebrow when he thought he messed up, or seeing the slight bite of bottom lip as he concentrated solely on a single vine. He was breathtaking, and Haru didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Of course he’d found people attractive, but none so much that he could compare them to Rin. He was almost of a different species, the angles of his face too structured and sharp to be simply human.

“Haru, as much as I absolutely _adore_ your presence, you’re making it really fucking hard to focus when you’re breathing down my neck,” he said. “It’s even worse than being watched from a distance like you did at the beginning.”

“I want to talk to you,” he said, partially worried it came out as demanding, because Rin sighed.

“Then talk,” he said. “Don’t just stare at me.”


	9. Chapter 9

Rin stood on the ladder with a smile on his face and a pair of hedge cutters in his hands, glancing over every so often at the boy who leaned out the window mirroring his grin. He didn’t talk much; he just asked questions. Some of them were dumb, like his favorite food or where he grew up or if he had any siblings – simple ones.

Others were more difficult to answer, and thankfully Haru didn’t ask too many.

“What are your parents like?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

Rin stopped trimming and looked at Haru.

“I don’t know anymore,” he shrugged, ignoring the churning in his stomach. He could picture his mom’s face in his mind and it made him sick, thinking about her last words to him.

“What does that mean?” he asked, leaning on his arm propped up on his elbow.

Rin rolled his eyes and sighed.

“It means I haven’t seen my real dad since I was 4, and for all I know he could be dead right now, and I haven’t talked to or even thought about my mom in much detail since I was barely a day over 16 years old, because she kicked me out. That’s what that means.”

_Whoops._

He looked over at Haru who didn’t even look phased at the confession. He didn’t mean to let all of that spill, but thinking about his parents set him on edge. He just hoped to the heavens he wouldn’t ask why she kicked him out.

“Do you have a fake dad, then?” he asked instead. Rin looked over at him, surely a blank expression of confusion covering his face. “You emphasized _real_ when you said ‘real dad.’ Does that mean you have a fake dad?”

“I have – had – a step dad,” he said, turning back to the vines. “He was an asshole, too, just like my mom. Probably even worse.”

A pause.

“What about your sister?”

“What about her?”

“Have you seen her lately?”

“No,” he said, his voice getting quieter with the touchy subject. He wished Haru would drop it, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction in knowing that someone cared enough to ask and openly speak about it, other than Sousuke, who knew it all from the beginning. “She’s still living with my dad, who I guess is probably still alive. Then again, she could just be living alone, too.” He paused, cutting away a leaf that more than likely didn’t need to be trimmed. “He took her when she was only a year old. My mom didn’t care, even when I tried to get her to stop him.”

“When did you see her last?” he asked softly, his tone begging for Rin to look over at him.

“When I was about 9 or 10,” he answered. “She showed up at my mom’s place with my dad’s sister, saying she wanted to meet her mystery brother. That was the only time I saw her.”

Haru didn’t answer. Rin didn’t go on. He glanced up, and instantly, the blue eyes were locked on his, making the feeling of nausea go away, replacing it with a sense of weightlessness. He smiled.

“So, that’s my life story,” he shrugged lightly. “What about you? What secrets are you hiding in the dark?”

“I don’t have any,” he said. Rin laughed once. “I really don’t. I can’t afford to have any, or else when it’s inevitably found out, it could cause a huge dilemma for my family.”

That made sense. He never thought about it in that way. It would be next to impossible to hide things when your family is this important.

“No secrets?”

“None.”

“Not even a really lame one? Like you pissed yourself at camp when you were 6 because a stag beetle was in your hair? Nothing?” Rin pressed, smiling brightly at the boy with soft pink cheeks leaning out the window.

“I never went to any camp, unless the Etiquette Training Week counts,” he mumbled, digging the heel of his palm into his lips, his words coming out muffled at the end.

“What the fuck is an Etiquette Training Week?” Rin laughed.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” he shrugged.

“It sounds like hell.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a small smile forming on his lips again. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Rin looked at the boy closely – trying his best to evade the image of Haru naked that kept popping up in his mind – and felt like there was nothing that could go wrong when he was talking to Haru. He was so collected and soothing with everything he said, especially the way he said it, that couldn’t compare to any other feeling Rin had felt in his life before. Haru really was another kind of human being altogether – a far more sophisticated, higher up creature that Rin was convinced could probably take over the world if he had the motivation.

“Tell me about –”

“Come to my dinner party with me,” Haru said, cutting Rin off and demanding his attention.

He was shocked, to say the least, his face heating up at the way he had phrased it. What did he mean, go with him?

“What?”

“My family’s annual dinner party,” he clarified.

“Yeah, I know what dinner party you’re talking about,” he snapped. “What do you mean, go with you? Like your date or something?”

“No, my ‘date’ is the Hazuki sister you had the pleasure of meeting the other day,” he said, cringing. Rin cringed, too. “Just come. We have plenty of food and I’m sure my parents would like to meet their newest employee in an unprofessional setting. That’s typically how all the other workers meet my parents, and how most of them have formed such great relationships with them.”

Rin listened, taking it all in slowly, word by word and breaking down what he was saying. He wanted him to skip a day of work to sit around a table with God only know how many strangers, wearing a suit and feeling like a monkey, just to suck up to his parents.

“Hold on,” he said, putting the clippers on the windowsill next to Haru’s arm and pulling his hair back into a ponytail. “You want me to show up to one of the most extravagant events this city has ever known?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say the most extravagant event, but yes, that’s essentially what I’m asking,” he responded flatly.

“Hm,” he hummed. “I can suck up to your parents any time. I don’t see why it has to be at this specific dinner party.”

“It’s not about sucking up to them,” he said. “I want you there so I don’t have to be there alone.”

“You just said the Hazukis will be there,” he sighed. “The Tachibanas probably will be, too, won’t they? And God knows who else will show up to flash their off-white, lacy invitations with handwritten messages – hopefully not written by you, or else they won’t know what the fuck the invitation is for.”

“My handwriting is not that bad,” he deadpanned.

“Yes, it is,” Rin spat.

“Is not.”

“Is too! Have you never taken a second glance at it?”

“Can you read the notes I leave you?”

“Yes, but –”

“Then it can’t be that bad,” he insisted. Rin stopped before he continued, realizing just how close their faces had gotten. He could hear the steady breaths coming from Haru’s nose, his lips barely parted, his eyes focused on Rin’s mouth, shaped into a snarl that softened immediately upon meeting the crashing blue irises. He tried to pull back, but he was mesmerized by them for just a second too long, just enough to catch the minimal smirk that formed on Haru’s lips. Rin pulled back instantly then, jerking his head back to focus on trimming the leaves that were probably done a while ago.

“Are you going to come to the dinner party or not? You can bring someone, if you want,” he said. “Everyone personally invited gets a plus one.”

“Are you actually giving me a choice?” he asked, flicking a leaf with his finger.

“Yes,” Haru said. “And I’m also giving you your lunch break back.” His voice stayed firm until the very end, where it dropped just barely enough to catch Rin’s attention.

Was he hearing correctly? He was actually getting his lunch break back?

Come to think of it, did he even want it back? If every lunch break turned out to be like this conversation they were having now, it was something Rin was perfectly okay with having.

Then again, he did want to spend more time with Seijuro, especially with the end of the semester coming up for him, he’d have more free time – time he might be able to spend with Rin.

“You’re serious?” he asked, almost afraid to ask in case he jinxed it.

Haru nodded once and stood up straight, standing inside once again.

“I have to get to prepare for my parents’ return,” he said promptly – professionally. Rin didn’t like it when he sounded like that. “Keep working and holler if you need me.”

The window shut and Rin was left staring at his reflection at an awkward angle, making his face look wide and distorted. He got his lunch break back and was invited to the Nanase dinner party.

If this was what he got for seeing a rich boy naked, he’d have to find the bathroom window next.

 

* * *

 

Haru trudged stubbornly to the study, picking up the landline and dialing his father – he would never answer if he saw Haru’s cell phone number, but if it was the house number, he would never miss it.

“Haruka,” he said, answering on the second ring with a familiar bright, jovial voice.

“Father,” Haru said flatly.

“What is it? Is something wrong with the preparations?”

“No, I –”

“Haruka, dear? Is something wrong?” his mother asked, apparently grabbing the phone from his father.

“No, Mother, I –”

“If you couldn’t handle the preparations, you could have said something. It would have been okay,” she continued.

“Let the boy explain what went wrong,” his father insisted, grabbing the phone back.

“Nothing went wrong,” he said flatly. “I was checking in to make sure you were actually going to be home on time.”

“Of course we will be,” his mother chuckled. “We’re already well on our way. How is the new gardener boy doing?”

Haru’s lips turned up at the corners at the mention of him, but wiped it off instantly.

“He’s fine,” he said evenly. “He’s adjusted quite well to the way things are supposed to be done.”

“Oh, that’s good!” his mother laughed, repeating what Haru had said – paraphrasing it “Haruka says he’s doing magnificently well! Isn’t that great?” – and sighing. “I was a bit worried at first that he would turn down the job after seeing how much of a hassle it is to tend to the gardens, especially for him to be nearly inexperienced. I’m so relieved he’s doing well. Have you spoken to him?”

“A little, yes,” Haru said, eager to hang up the phone to return to watching the boy. Of course he was inevitably curious and was almost desperate to know what it was that compelled his parents to hire someone knowing full well that he was as inexperienced as he was, but not enough that he would willingly stay on the phone with his parents, especially when they were in as good of a mood as they were now.

“Haru talks to him, too! This is fantastic! No wonder he’s stuck around this long,” his mother laughed again, her voice slightly muffled. Haru assumed she was either holding the phone farther from her mouth or she was covering the mouthpiece with her hand, neither of which worked to mute the conversation.

“I need to finish preparations, Mother,” Haru said. “I’ll see you both soon.”

“Goodbye, Haruka,” his father said, interrupted by his mother bidding him goodbye as well.

He hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair. So, they knew he was inexperienced and hired him anyway? Why would they do that, knowing how important the lawn had always been? How did he even get an interview anyway? There had to have been tons of applicants for the job – they paid over double what regular employers pay.

He picked up the phone again, dialing the Hazuki landline, a bored female voice answering on the fourth ring, when Haru was sure that no one was going to pick up.

“Hazuki residence,” she drawled.

“Haruka Nanase speaking,” he said. He winced as he said his full name. He hated using it. “May I please speak with Mr. Hazuki?”

“Oh, Haru! Of course, just give me a second,” she said, suddenly sounding much more alive, like all the Hazukis usually sounded.

He heard the phone being set down a high-pitched voice screaming, “Daddy, Haru’s on the phone!”

A few seconds later, he heard another click, and then a familiar deep voice, a smile permanently laced into the tone. He wondered how someone as distasteful as Nanako could be from the same family that didn’t know what unhappiness was.

“Haru, how are you?” he asked.

“I’m well, thank you,” Haru replied curtly. He didn’t particularly dislike speaking with the man, but when it came to business, he much rather preferred face-to-face conversations. “I was just calling to confirm your attendance at the dinner tonight.”

“Of course; we wouldn’t miss a night with the Nanases,” he chuckled.

“Great,” Haru said. “I look forward to seeing you all.”

He had to hide the disgust he felt thinking about Nanako coming over – which proved to be difficult – and hung up rather quickly, before he could begin another conversation.

Assuming they would be here on time, he still had a good 4 hours to make sure the maid got her job done properly for the first time since his parents had left. He was positive that if his mother saw the horrendous state of the house it was in now, he would never hear the end of it – “This dust is making me sneeze, Haruka! How will we be able to have company if everyone is just sneezing all the while?”

She turned up in time, as Haru flipped through the papers on his father’s desk one last time, getting vaguely familiar with the drab, plain article. He didn’t particularly care about the stock rates in England in the 90s, nor did they particularly matter. They weren’t in England – the stock rates there were doing fine now anyway, so that’s all that mattered – and Haru certainly didn’t intend on inheriting the stocks his father held. He’d hire someone else to manage them for him, like Haru suggested his father to do as well.

At 11, Haru decided he’d had enough of the boring paperwork – that was more than he’d gone over any of it before – and returned to his bedroom window where he had last seen Rin. He wasn’t on the ladder anymore; he didn’t see him at all. Haru narrowed his eyes, opening the window and taking a look around the yard, still not finding him.

He couldn’t have just left. Maybe Haru had the time wrong, though, and it was his lunch break?

“Haru?” Rin called, the hushed slam of the door interrupting him. Haru nothing short of sprinted to the entrance; almost tripping over himself when he nearly went down the wrong staircase and had to backtrack.

“Rin,” he said coolly.

“I didn’t want to bug you, but,” he said, pausing, his eyes locked on a certain area of Haru’s shirt. He smiled and glanced back up, the ruby irises locking with the sapphires. “First of all, you have your breakfast on your shirt. Second of all, I finished the ivy a while ago and started weeding around the main gate, but now I have nothing to do, and I _really_ don’t want to start mowing and then have to do it all day tomorrow, too.”

Haru looked down at his shirt, noting the small stain. He had forgotten about the omelet he dropped on it. The redhead’s words processed eventually – after he had coughed to get Haru’s attention again – and he pursed his lips, debating whether he was going to let Rin back in the pool so soon. He wasn’t necessarily mad anymore. It wasn’t about the pool in the first place. However, Rin didn’t have any other tasks and Haru couldn’t think of anymore, so he sighed.

“Scrub the sides of the pool,” he mumbled, “And don’t forget to put on your damn jammers.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I just did it to piss you off. How many times do I have to tell you that?” he sighed.

“You could do it again to piss me off even further if you wanted to,” he said, locking eyes with him.

“I _could_ ,” he replied, “But I’m not that much of an idiot; risking my job just to piss you off? Besides, I’m not an asshole, either.”

“Could have fooled me,” Haru said flatly. Rin’s lips curled up with a hint of irritation branded into his burning irises.

“I’m not usually an asshole,” he said defensively. “You just make me act like one because of how infuriating you are 99% of the time.”

“I’m not the one ruining your bushes, jumping in your pool fully clothed, and uprooting your onions,” he said. He fought back a smile as Rin groaned, rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair, a few strands falling out of the ponytail and hanging in his face.

“We went over this already,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to uproot the onions.”

“I know,” Haru said quietly, his tone much softer than he had intended. He smiled. Rin looked at him, his eyes wide with fascination as he stared at his lips.

He glanced back up at Haru’s eyes, his features relaxing and a small smile forming on his face as well.

“So, right, I’ll go change, and – pool, okay,” he said, shaking his head and blinking hard, taking a step back. He almost tripped, making Haru smile a bit larger.

“Are you going to be taking your break on or off the property?” he asked before Rin opened the door. “Actually, before you answer that, do you want to be grilled by my parents again or wait until tomorrow when they drag you inside by your dyed hair follicles and grill you even worse than the first time?”

Rin cringed.

“Okay, look,” he snapped. “My hair is _not_ dyed, you jackass.” He stopped, apparently waiting for Haru to retort. He didn’t. “I’ll take my break off the property today. Thanks for asking. It’s not like I don’t already get yanked away from my work anyway.”

“I don’t yank you,” Haru said.

“Do, too,” Rin scoffed, taking a step toward him.

“Do not. I have never laid a hand on you.”

“I didn’t mean literally!”

“You should have clarified then.”

“I thought it was implied.”

“It wasn’t,” Haru said, his voice much quieter now that he realized that they had once again gotten close enough to hear Rin’s irregular breathing, to smell the scent of soil permeating his silky tanned skin, to feel the heat of the sun radiating off of him. Haru was entranced, speechless, made motionless by the presence of the boy who stood in front of him now, his features softening, his breaths evening out as the silent seconds wore on. Haru couldn’t see anything but red; red hair, red eyes, red cheeks, red, red, red. He decided red was his favorite color.

Rin’s eyes narrowed slightly, the irises dancing delicately across Haru’s face, lingering on his lips for just a delayed second before glancing up at his eyes. Haru thought he would be the one to speak, but he didn’t. He took a step forward; a nearly indiscernible step, so small that Haru wouldn’t have been able to tell had he not been so focused on Rin’s every movement.

He saw Rin’s hand twitch, then clench out of the corner of his eye. He saw the almost-tilt of his head, the fine strands of hair falling out of place. He saw his lips part, as if he was going to speak, but had the words ripped from his mouth like the breaths he took.

However, he must have missed the sounds of a familiar car door slamming shut and the excited chatter of his parents approaching. He missed the sounds, and by the time he finally heard them, it was too late for the two boys to ignore them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just to clarify, they didn't kiss. They got pretty gosh darn close, but they didn't and won't for a while. When I write the kiss scene, y'all's will KNOW it's a kiss scene, because it's going to be the best kiss scene ever written. That is all, thank you for your time.


	10. Chapter 10

Rin tore his gaze away from the crashing blue irises that froze with rage the second the wide French doors flung open, taking a staggering step back and watching Mr. and Mrs. Nanase take in the scene before them with blank expressions on their faces, their previous lighthearted chatter that Rin could hear through the doors silenced, the only sound in the house being the faintest echo of their breathing.

His jaw hung open, ready to explain to Haru’s parents that they were only fighting and they accidentally got too close, too distracted, but he couldn’t find the right words to put in the right order.

The silence stretched on until Haru sighed, suddenly lighting a spark that ignited in the two owners of the estate.

“Haruka!” Mrs. Nanase exclaimed, her heels clicking loudly on the tile as she rushed over to bring him into a short embrace, then holding him at arm’s length. “You look pale. Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine, Mother,” he said, turning his head away from her. “Hello, Father.”

“Haruka,” he smiled, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist and tugging her softly away from Haru.

When Mrs. Nanase glanced over at Rin with a wide grin that revealed each one of her perfectly aligned, blindingly white teeth, he could only stare at the familiar blue eyes, framed by the jet black hair. Haru looked just like her.

“Oh! And Rin, was it?” she laughed, clasping her hands together. “How have you been?”

“You’ve been gone for two weeks, not two decades,” Haru interfered, his bitter tone not hidden well. Rin was tempted to smile, but couldn’t bring himself to when Mrs. Nanase’s expression faltered just a bit at his words.

“Right, well, it’s just so long since we’ve had a conversation in person,” she replied, looking back over at Haru. “Besides, I wanted to get to know Rin a bit more. How would you like to stay for lunch?”

He risked a glimpse at Haru, who still wore the faceless expression of impassivity, his eyes locked on Rin’s. He wasn’t sure what Haru would want him to do in this situation. He just offered to let Rin have his break off the property again, and he had fully intended on taking advantage of that and surprising Seijuro at his workplace for lunch. Haru’s parents didn’t seem to be helping either, the excitement pouring out of them and suffocating Rin. It was all a bit overwhelming.

Then again, the day had been going really well with Haru, and he was torn between leaving or taking advantage of how comfortable Haru had gotten around him. He liked being around Haru when he was acting like he had been today.

“Actually,” he said quietly, running a hand through the hairs on the back of his neck, “I kind of already had plans.”

He saw Haru straighten impossibly further, his cold gaze returning as the last word slipped past Rin’s lips.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Mrs. Nanase said. “My husband and I would have loved to speak with you more. You seem to be such a fantastic addition to our workforce if you’ve even got Haruka interested in your being here.”

Rin almost smiled at that, but kept his face politely neutral as he nodded in thanks at the Nanases.

“It was a pleasure seeing the two of you again,” he said, turning to Mr. Nanase, “But I have to return to work. Welcome home.”

“Of course,” he said. “It seems you’ve been doing a phenomenal job.”

“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask,” Mrs. Nanase smiled. She turned to her husband just as an unfamiliar man in a black suit stumbled through the doorway as elegantly as he could when one is holding innumerable suitcases. “Come now, dear. These bags won’t unpack themselves.”

Rin watched with a smile as the three walked up the stairs, laughing and chattering once again, leaving him and Haru alone. They seemed happy, and it surprised him. He didn’t know what he assumed, but it definitely wasn’t this.

His childhood house was never happy; not for as long as Rin could remember. Even when he moved in with Sousuke, there were still many days filled with family tension and arguments about things that seemed – to Rin – to be petty and easily solvable. That was one of the reasons he moved out as soon as he could, so he wouldn’t be a burden to them anymore, even though Sou’s parents swore on their lives he was never a burden.

“You can leave now,” Haru said, making Rin jerk his head back to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s still early,” he said slowly.

“You came in early,” he replied. “You’re free to go whenever.”

Rin didn’t answer. He could only watch as the boy turned to the staircase and smoothly, effortlessly, made his way back up the stairs. He looked incredibly graceful, his figure standing out beautifully against the marble staircase, and Rin was entranced by the way the tips of his fingers danced slowly along the railing.

“I won’t be here when you get back, but you’re free to come in and leave as you please,” he said. Rin almost missed the soft words that came from the boy who was almost out of sight.

Then he was gone, and Rin stood motionlessly at the bottom of the stairs, still trying to think of a way to respond. After a few seconds of listening to the ringing silence, he shook his head and turned on his heel quickly, possibly leaving a scuff mark – he didn’t check – and heading out the door.

If Haru wasn’t going to be there, then there was no point in staying, anyway. He’d rather spend time with Seijuro. He was still early, though, and he wouldn’t be on break for another half hour or so, leaving Rin bored and restless. He ended up at Sousuke’s, where Makoto sat at the kitchen table across from Sousuke, smiles plastered on their faces as Rin kicked the door shut.

“Can I help y –”

“His parents came home early,” Rin said, cutting his best friend off.

Sousuke shot a confused glance at Makoto.

“Hi, Rin, I have company,” he said sarcastically.

“I saw him. Hi, Tachibana. Me and Haru were in the middle of a fight,” he said, throwing himself into the seat next to Makoto, who scooted away in fear of getting hit by one of Rin’s flailing arms.

“You didn’t get fired again, did you?” Sousuke asked, leaning forward.

“The first time didn’t count – shut the hell up,” he snapped. “And no, but they wanted to me stay for lunch.”

“Why didn’t you?” Makoto asked, taking a sip of whatever was in his mug. Probably tea – nasty.

“I planned on meeting – well, surprising – Seijuro for lunch instead. Haru agreed to let me take my lunch off the property,” he sighed, running a hand through his bangs. “Then Haru said he wasn’t even going to be there for lunch, so really, I had no reason to stay at all.”

“You would have stayed if Haru would?” Makoto asked, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t you just say you were in a fight?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s typical,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know, he was…different today. We talked a lot this morning and he wasn’t unbearable.”

“You’re starting to like him a little more?” Sousuke asked.

“He’s not as horrible as I thought,” Rin shrugged.

“I told you,” Makoto chuckled. “He just takes some getting used to.”

There was a short silence, and Rin caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“I need to go before Sei leaves for lunch,” he said, standing up and cracking his neck. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Our group is going out for dinner on Monday, if you want to come,” Makoto suggested. “Seijuro will be there.”

Rin turned around at the door to face him and nodded.

“I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

He got to the café just as Seijuro pushed the door open, holding it for the familiar silver-haired boy. Ai, he believed his name was.

“Rin?” Seijuro smiled as he noticed him approaching. “What are you doing?”

“Haru gave me my break back,” he said, closing the distance as Seijuro wrapped his arms around his waist and kissing him once.

“Ah, sweet victory," he grinned, kissing Rin one last time before pulling back. “Come on, let’s eat. You remember Ai, right?” he asked, grabbing his hand and jerking his head toward the small boy.

“Yeah, how’s it going?”

“Not bad,” he smiled, looking away with a small smile.

“He’s been my lunch date since he started working with me,” Sei winked, crushing Ai with his elbow and ruffling the top of his hair.

“I can’t today,” he said, wriggling out of his grasp. “I already promised Chigusa I’d go to the mall with her. I’ll catch you later, Sei. Bye, Rin.”

They walked across the street to a small diner where old pop music played in the background, and the only other people in the small diner were a group of college students who had put two tables together to fit their whole group. They glanced over their shoulders as Rin pushed the door open, the golden bell on top of the door ringing, announcing their entrance. The two of them slid into a booth at the back and waited for someone to take their order.

“How’s work so far today?” Sei asked. “Has Haru driven you to the point of no return?”

Rin laughed.

“No, actually, it’s been going pretty well,” he said, tearing the corners of a napkin off. “His parents are kind of weird, though.” He smiled when he thought about this morning, Haru’s glistening blue irises glinting with curiosity in the sun as question after question came tumbling past his lips.

“How?” he asked, just as an older woman holding a thin notepad walked over.

She took their orders and set two glasses of water down on the table.

“They’re, I don’t know, so happy,” he shrugged, shifting in his seat. “Mrs. Nanase walked through the door and I thought she was going to suffocate Haru right in front of me. By the way, are you busy two weeks from today?”

“I might have work, but I could take it off,” he said, taking a sip of his water. “Why? What’s up?”

“Haru invited me to his family’s annual dinner thing, and I can bring a plus one,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on the cheap placemat in front of him. He wasn’t necessarily nervous, but it was unnerving, knowing this wasn’t a casual event they would be attending.

“Yeah, I’d love to go,” he smiled.

Rin returned it with a smile of his own, but before he could stop it, he compared Seijuro’s smile to Haru’s. He noticed that it didn’t shine as brightly.

 

* * *

 

Haru waited patiently at the top of the stairs, watching.

The Hazukis were early, as was to be expected, but Haru’s parents didn’t seem to mind. They were hugging and shaking hands as the neighbors piled in, one by one. Then he saw Nanako. He cringed.

“Nanako! Oh, my dear, it’s been so long!” Mrs. Nanase said, refraining from hugging the oldest Hazuki. Haru sometimes thought that not even his mother liked her. “You must tell us all about your time in the States over dinner, okay?”

“Of course, Mrs. Nanase,” she said, her voice so sickeningly sweet that it bordered sarcastic.

“Haruka!” his father called. That was his cue.

He descended slowly, his eyes never leaving Nanako’s dark, uninterrupted glare. It only made Haru’s that much colder.

He offered her his arm regardless, as he had been doing since he could remember – he didn’t see the point in escorting her less than 40 feet, but never brought it up with his parents – and followed the others into the dining hall.

“I hate this,” she muttered under her breath, quiet enough so that the others wouldn’t hear. He didn’t answer her.

She was almost taller than Haru in the heels she had worn this evening, the black and gold accentuating her significantly tanned skin, the short black dress hugging her like a second skin. She looked alright, and Haru would have even complimented her tonight if he didn’t hate her as much as he did.

He led her to her seat, pushing it in as she sat down. He almost walked away to sit down before his father cleared his throat at the head of the table, gesturing to her empty wine glass.

He had to be joking.

This was the reason they had servers – so no one would have to do this themselves, or for other people they hated, in this matter.

He poured the crisp, dark red wine, the first few drops at the bottom of the glass giving him flashbacks of the gardener boy, who had been so close, so warm, so breathtaking.

He almost over poured the wine.

The conversations took off immediately, Nanako going on about her time in the States, his parents going on and sharing what Haru thought to be irrelevant stories about their most recent business trip, and Nagisa sharing a bit of information on his new romantic interest, Rei.

Haru wanted to go back upstairs, but the nagging ache in his stomach reminding him of how hungry he was kept him planted in his seat, at least until the food showed up.

“Nagisa mentioned you hired a new gardener,” Mrs. Hazuki said to Haru’s parents.

“That’s correct,” his mother nodded. “It seems Haruka has taken a liking to this one.”

All eyes turned to him. He took a sip of his wine.

“Haruka likes someone other than Makoto? Really?” one of the other blonde sisters asked – Haru could never tell them apart.

The table laughed and he refrained from rolling his eyes.

“He likes him enough to let him spend his entire lunch break here,” Nanako said casually, swirling what was left of the deep red liquid in her glass. He wished she would drink white wine. White wine wasn’t the same color as Rin’s hair.

“The boy agreed to that?” Mr. Hazuki asked incredulously. “After the fight we overheard the other day, I’m surprised that the poor boy is still alive and well. Haruka certainly ripped him a new one.”

“He was in my pool,” he said, turning his head to the side.

“He’s certainly your son,” Mr. Hazuki said to Haru’s father. He had been a swimmer as well, but stopped after college. He had been offered plenty of opportunities to swim for national teams, but chose what he believed to be more logical. It was Haru’s unspoken responsibility to do the same.

The entrée came and was taken away after a bit, the main course was a blur, and dessert was over before Haru even noticed the table was looking at him, waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t hear.

“Excuse me, can you repeat that?” he asked, wiping the corners of his mouth his handkerchief.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hazuki were just wondering when the wedding was going to take place,” Haru’s mother said.

He froze.

The wedding; of course, the wedding. He’d only been engaged for 20 years. How could he forget?

He wished he could have forgotten for an even longer period of time, and nearly hoped that everyone else would have, too. Unfortunately, this was something neither the Hazuki family nor the Nanase family were going to be forgetting about anytime soon.

“Sometime after my birthday,” Haru said, picking up his nearly empty wine glass. He motioned for one of the servers in the back to refill it for him.

“Darling, you said that last year,” his mother said quietly, her tone almost embarrassed.

He did say that last year, at the annual dinner party in front of dozens of guests.

“Don’t pressure the boy,” Mrs. Hazuki laughed. “I’m sure he’s got his hands full juggling the house you two leave behind so often.”

“The sooner, the better,” Mr. Nanase sighed. “But of course, take your time.”

Haru took another sip of his wine. He wanted to leave.

The conversation took a turn, and Haru immediately tuned them out once again. Instead, he thought about Rin. He wondered what he was doing tonight. He wondered what he did over his lunch break. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak to him after this morning, seeing as how Haru had been out with Makoto to pick up the dress shirt he had had altered a few weeks back from the tailor. By the time he got back, his parents had already given him the night off – they didn’t like having any miscellaneous workers present during a dinner party. Typically, they would be invited, but this one was private. Only the Hazukis were invited.

Speaking of, Haru needed to get Rin an invitation to show at the door when he arrived at the annual dinner party. He’d have to write it himself. His mother had already finished sending them out already.

After a fifth glass of wine Haru probably didn’t need, the Hazukis were finally getting ready to go. He escorted Nanako back to the door wordlessly, his mind the slightest bit fuzzy, blurred with streaks of red.

“It’s so nice to have you home again,” Mrs. Nanase said to Haru’s mother, hugging her tightly as Mr. Hazuki shook Haru’s father’s hand.

A flurry of “come by any time” was exchanged, then they were gone. Haru’s parents stood quietly at the door, smiles on their faces.

“I’m going to bed,” Haru announced, turning on his heel and climbing the stairs.

“Sleep well, Haruka,” his father said.

He didn’t answer.

The next morning, a familiar voice echoed throughout the house, waking him up.

“Haru? Nanases?” he called from the entrance.

He didn’t get out of bed, hearing the soft click of his mother’s heels on the tile.

“Yes?” she said. He hesitated in his speech before he answered.

“I, uh, Haru didn’t leave a note on the gate, so I don’t know what to do today,” he said, his voice dropping in volume.

He did forget, didn’t he?

“Oh, dear,” she sighed. “I certainly don’t know what he had in mind. I’m sorry. He was exhausted yesterday. He mustn’t have had a good night’s sleep the night before. Well, it’s no worry. You can head on upstairs to ask him. He’s probably awake by now, but the good Lord knows he won’t be coming down any time soon unless it’s for breakfast.”

He sat up in bed instantly, hearing an “oh, right, if that’s okay” spill past Rin’s lips and directions to Haru’s room from his mother’s. He slid out of bed, his legs tangled momentarily in the sleek silk sheets before whipping out a fresh pair of sweatpants and slipping them on just as Rin’s footsteps stopped outside his door.

Two short tentative knocks came.

“Haru? Is this the right room?” he asked quietly, unsure.

“Yes,” he said, his voice dry. He needed water. There was a pause from the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Haru smiled to himself. He debated saying no just to mess with him, but decided it was too early in the morning.

“Yes,” he said, turning away from the door and walking back toward the bed.

The door opened soundlessly, and Rin’s shadow entered before him, his short footsteps annoying Haru. He seemed too uncomfortable and it pissed him off. Why couldn’t he ever relax in front of him?

“Would you please stop being a bitch?” he said flatly, accidentally, not bothering to turn around. Apparently it wasn’t too early to start arguing. “You’re so tense every time you walk into a room.”

“Look, Haru, I had a long ass night,” he sighed. Haru’s ears perked up. He wasn’t going to argue. He still seemed tense, though. “I just need to know what to do today since your ass forgot. We wouldn’t be in this position if you would have just left the shitty note on the gate this morning.”

“They aren’t shitty,” he said tersely.

“Okay, fine, they aren’t shitty,” he said, rubbing his temples. His hair wasn’t in a ponytail. “What’s on the list today?”

Haru looked at him blankly, confusion clouding his thought process. He didn’t like this Rin. This Rin was too submissive, too agreeable.

“Mow,” he said. Rin nodded, turning back around to head down the stairs. He briefly wondered if he had unintentionally walked up the right set, or if he walked up the wrong ones and his mother let it slide. He assumed the former. “Wait, Rin.”

“Hm?”

He stopped, looking over his shoulder with half-closed eyes. He looked tired. He wanted to know why.

“What happened last night?”

He tensed up for a second before visibly forcing his shoulders to relax.

“Nothing,” he said, offering a small smile. “Thank you for asking, but don’t worry about it.”

“I am worrying about it,” he said as Rin took another step out the door, but froze at Haru’s words. He turned around slowly.

“Don’t.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, quick really important note.  
> This chapter might be a little bit triggering - I'm not entirely sure - but it brings up Rin's abusive past. I don't think it should be too bad, but I'm leaving a warning here just to make sure all of you are okay.  
> On a lighter note, next chapter will be back to SouMako because we have to get that ship in the water some time, am I right? (ha get it)

It took Rin all day to mow the lawn, just as it did last time, but it felt like it took longer, seeing as how he was more distracted than he’d ever been. The day dragged by in a slow blur, his head never ceasing to pound against his temples.

Haru didn’t talk to him that day. He didn’t feel his eyes on him either.

As the evening rolled around, he put the lawn mower away, having finished the whole yard 20 minutes earlier than the time he gets off. He vaguely remembered Haru heading for the pool. He’d tell him that he was done and that he was leaving.

Last night was supposed to be a good night, but it took a turn when his cell phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the scratched screen. His first mistake was answering it.

His father had gotten his number (which seemed nearly impossible, seeing as how the number changed with each phone he got), and that led to his second mistake – talking to him.

The third and final mistake was after the long-winded argument they had, Rin’s chest never unclenching from the uncomfortable tightness. His father was coming back in a week and wanted to see him. Rin had agreed, but only because he would be able to see his sister for the first time since he was a child.

As he approached the pool, he saw a spot of black under the water, drifting slowly along. He came up as Rin knelt down by the poolside.

“I’m heading out,” he said flatly. The tone felt unfamiliar. He liked it better with Haru’s voice.

“You’re finished?” he asked, flipping the dripping locks out of his face.

Rin nodded, watching the few strands that stuck stubbornly to his forehead.

“Very well,” he said, pushing himself out of the pool. “I can arrange a ride home, if you so choose.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, shaking his head. His eyes were still locked on the small ripples on the surface. “I’d rather walk.”

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow,” Haru said.

Rin shrugged.

“I don’t work tomorrow.”

He didn’t respond.

“Of course,” he said after an exceedingly long silence. “I’ll see you Tuesday then.”

Rin stood up and faced Haru, who was already searching for his eyes.

He ignored the soft vibrations in his chest when their eyes met, and nodded, walking briskly past Haru and out the gate. He wanted to talk to Sousuke, but he was out with Makoto. He’d said he’d be back as soon as he could. Rin told him to forget it, that it wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.

 **Are you sure?** he had asked.

 **Yeah, don’t worry about it.** he had replied.

He wasn’t tired, so he didn’t sleep. He thought about his father instead – the man who left before Rin even had the chance to know him.

For a long time, he thought his father was a good man, and that he had left to go somewhere else to make more money, to support his family he was forced to leave behind. None of that was true, he learned, as a new man inevitably came in to replace his father whom he knew so briefly, a man with an ugly beard and thick arms – not from muscle, but from fat – and a beer belly that he sustained every day. Rin hated him and sometimes wished his father had taken him along, too.

He grew to hate his father as well, however, as years and years passed by. He hated the man who left him to be beaten by an ugly drunk with a sex addiction. His mother started to pick up his habits, each of them taking turns at swinging, leaving Rin a mess on the ground. He began to hate her just as much as the stranger of a father.

Yet here he was, 17 years later, agreeing to meet up with the man who did nothing but let him rot in a decaying household.

He felt the familiar prick in his eyes as he stared up at his ceiling, and numbly let them make their way down the sides of his face.

He wanted to meet his sister again. It didn’t feel fair for him to have his entire family forced away, torn away, including his little sister who had absolutely no choice in the matter.

It was about midnight when he finally began to drift in and out of sleep. Eventually, he did fall asleep, waking up to a thin slit of sunlight hitting him directly in the eyes. He turned his face away from the dusty window and yawned. He wondered what time it was. Then he realized he didn’t have to care. He didn’t have any concrete plans yet.

He wondered if he was up to going out with the group tonight. Since he started at the Nanase Estate, money didn’t seem to be such an issue. He had the money to pay his bills now, as well as spend money on going out every so often. That wasn’t what he was worried about. He didn’t want to be in a bad mood when he saw Sousuke. He’d seen him vulnerable far too often. Rin refused to allow himself to slip back into the state he had been in for most of his life, and he certainly didn’t want Sousuke to see any sign of it remaining. He had sworn he was past it all and intended on holding true to his word.

The day dragged, and coincidentally, so did Rin. His feet sometimes carried him into the tiny kitchen, where he made frozen waffles for breakfast and a bowl of mac and cheese for lunch. He ate on the black sofa that still smelled like his last ex’s cologne and watched the news, silently laughing at the weatherman who tripped over his own feet.

Haru was right. It rained.

It started at around noon, the skies darkening gradually until it was the perfect shade of thunderstorm gray. It picked up rapidly. Eventually, the power went out and Rin laid down on the sofa and watched the rain form streaks on his window, distorting his vision of the outside, listening to the thunder as it shook the complex.

He wasn’t going to go out tonight, he decided. Bad weather was bad luck, although one of the more unfortunate things had happened on a night that had stars so bright, it looked like he could reach out and grab one.

But still.

He shot a quick text to Sousuke, telling him he wouldn’t be able to make it tonight, to which he replied with an ‘okay, but you’re missing out.’

The day dragged, and eventually, the power came back on, the news playing like it hadn’t ever been disturbed. Rin’s eyelids felt heavy, and his chest was tight.

“Next Friday,” his father had said. “I’ll be in town by then. Tell me where to meet you.”

Rin had told him that they could meet at a restaurant, one far from his apartment on the other side of town. This was going to be the only time he would see his father. He hoped he had been taking care of Gou, and giving her a life that Rin never got. He hoped he was less of a deadbeat father to her than he was to him. He didn’t care about getting answers to questions that wouldn’t change things. He wanted to make sure he was being a decent human being toward his little sister that he didn’t get the opportunity to grow up with.

In all reality, her existence was no more or less material to him than that of his father’s, but the difference was that Gou hadn’t done anything against Rin, whereas every other relative had.

When evening came, the rain let up, but the clouds still refused to let the sun shine through. He took a walk as the clock struck 7, deciding that if he stayed locked up any longer, he might lose his mind, which began to wander back to the piercing blue eyes that filled his thoughts on most occasions, if he was being honest with himself.

He smiled to himself as he turned toward the old park he and Sousuke used to play on as kids. It was down the same road as the Nanase’s house.

It was empty, as usual, and every surface of the chipped jungle gym was soaked, coated with droplets of dirty water. He sat on one of the swings, avoiding the mud puddle under his feet and ignoring the cold water that seeped through his pants. He remembered when the playground was a much brighter area. Maybe it was just because of the weather, or maybe it was because he was so much older now, but he remembered when the rusted yellows and greens and blues used to be covered with a fresh coat of paint and the slides weren’t dented and vandalized.

Whenever he and Sousuke used to come here after school, there was always a pair of two other boys who were always here before them and would leave as soon as they approached. They never figured out who they were, and neither pair of boys really seemed to mind either way.

“Shouldn’t you be out at dinner with Sousuke and Makoto’s group?” a familiar voice asked, making Rin jump and drag his shoe through the water. It instantly soaked his sock.

“If I didn’t know you better, I would think you were stalking me,” he replied, relaxing when he saw Haru.

He didn’t reply, but sat down silently on the seat next to Rin. He saw him cringe as the water inevitably soaked his pants, too.

“Do you usually come to hang out on children’s playgrounds in your spare time?” Rin asked, his tone flat, but the words sarcastic.

“What happened?” he asked quickly, the words leaving his mouth the second Rin stopped talking.

He felt his chest clench again and smiled, shaking his head.

“Didn’t I tell you not to worry about it?”

“I didn’t listen,” he replied.

 

* * *

 

Haru kicked the ground lightly, and lifted his feet, letting himself swing slowly back and forth, the rusty chains filling the silence between them.

He didn’t expect to see Rin here, but it definitely made his job a lot easier, now that he didn’t have to track him down. He didn’t know how to get to his apartment, and after a few minutes of staring at the address on the résumé, figured it would be slightly creepy to show up at his apartment unannounced, demanding for an explanation to something that had nothing to do with him.

Then he had remembered Makoto saying something about going out with some friends – he was welcome to join them, if he was okay with getting to know a few strangers – and assumed Sousuke and Rin would be a part of that group. Going to his apartment would have proven to be pointless, anyway, if he could even find it in the first place.

So, in a moment of nostalgia as the rain eased up to a light mist, he headed out, the hood of his jacket pulled up as he walked the familiar streets to the familiar playground with the familiar redheaded boy seated on the familiar swing set.

“Obviously,” he sighed, almost whispered, after minutes passed. “Look, Haru.”

Haru’s gaze stayed glued to the tips of his sneakers until Rin finished his speech, then glanced at him. He had heard his voice, but not the words, assuming they weren’t an explanation as to what had happened the night before, so he blocked them out. He wondered if he had been broken up with.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” he deadpanned, looking Rin in the eye.

“What?” he spat, confusion taking over his features immediately. “Did you – did you miss that entire thing?”

He didn’t respond.

Rin groaned, digging his elbows into his knees and resting his face in his hands.

“I said that I know it’s your responsibility to ask your employees how they’re doing and all that, but I get a feeling you’re asking on a different level than a professional one, and I don’t think that’s appropriate, so drop it. Please.”

“Why can’t I just ask to make sure you’re alright?” Haru asked, feeling a wave of irritation settle in his stomach.

“Because you aren’t supposed to care,” he said, his tone still bleak and flat. He didn’t like it.

“I do.”

“It doesn’t involve you, so it doesn’t fucking matter,” he spat, his voice cracking and becoming coarse. He looked over at Haru, his eyes beginning to redden.

Haru didn’t know how to respond. If he was being honest, he never knew how to comfort people when they were like this; he’d never had to know. Sure, he knew that whenever Makoto tripped during a game of hide-and-seek, he needed a Band-Aid on his knee, and he knew that “peroxide fixes everything,” because his nanny always used that on all the scratches they would get, but this kind of pain wasn’t the same as any of that.

He wasn’t sure it actually helped, but Makoto always told him that talking about things was the best way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, pushing his hair out of his face and standing up. Haru mimicked his actions, stepping in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“Why don’t you want me to care?” he asked, in what he thought to be soft and almost sympathetic, but Rin seemed to take it differently, his features scrunching up in irritation and confusion – an odd combination, Haru thought.

“Because it isn’t your business to care,” he snapped. “This is _my_ problem and _my_ life and _my_ responsibility – _not_ yours.”

Haru held his gaze, the red irises burning with an icy passion that made his stomach churn. He thought that maybe it wasn’t a breakup after all.

“Okay,” he said quietly, watching as Rin’s expression relaxed, his entire body slackening. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get home safely and get some sleep tonight. Goodbye.”

As he turned around, he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from Rin’s. He had once again been so close to him, close enough so that he could tell that he was struggling to keep his tears hidden, how he dug his teeth into the side of his cheek. He could feel every breath of his mixing with the heavy air around them and Haru could smell the faint scent of his soap, clinging to his skin that he’d gotten so used to seeing coated with soil that it was almost strange to see it so clean and so beautifully tanned.

He had only gotten a few steps before he heard Rin’s tentative voice call his name again.

“Why did you come here?” he asked.

He turned back to face Rin, and shrugged. He didn’t have a real reason. It was a spur of the moment decision he made after remembering a certain rainy day over a decade ago here.

“I used to come here a lot,” he said, waiting to see if he would continue. He did.

“I did, too,” he mumbled, looking down and kicking a woodchip.

“I know,” he smiled, turning once again to leave. Rin didn’t reply.

The rest of the night was a dreary drag, the house filled with echoed silences that stretched on treacherously long between the short chuckles of his parents on the phone with various people – more than likely checking up on the attendance of the dozens of guests, seeing which ones had plus ones and which ones didn’t.

He hated Mondays more than any other day of the week.

He had spoken with his father and after a few minutes of uncomfortable conversation, he was granted a summer vacation. His last set of classes would be tomorrow – as long as Haru kept learning German until he could speak it fluently. He agreed with a cringe.

They were seated at the dining table that was too long and too empty for just 3 people, and Haru sat silently while his parents cut their steaks and taking bites nearly simultaneously. They didn’t speak much while they were eating alone.

He wasn’t hungry, so he was left to push the undercooked piece of meat around his plate, his back beginning to ache with how straight he’d been sitting for so long. His posture must have gotten worse while they had been gone without realizing it. Maybe it was getting as bad as Rin’s.

“Rin is coming to the dinner party,” he said, before he forgot to tell them later.

“Is he?” his father asked, taking a small sip of wine.

“Will he be bringing anyone?” his mother asked, wiping the corners of her mouth with the white handkerchief that rested on her lap. He wondered whether the red marks on it were lipstick or wine.

“I’m not sure yet,” he answered, folding his unused handkerchief and setting it on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going to bed now.”

“Of course,” his mother smiled. “Sleep well, dear.”

“Goodnight, Haruka,” his father said, motioning for the server posted at the back to gather up the dishes.

He slipped out of the room, avoiding the man who was balancing too many dishes on one arm to be considered safe, and went straight to his room, stripping down and sliding between the silken sheets. He hadn’t liked seeing Rin broken down like that. He had seen him laughing and smiling, and he’d seen him angry, pissed off, and irritated. Even those seemingly more preferable than what he had been like today. He’d never seen Makoto like that. He himself had only felt that way once, and he hated seeing it in Rin just as much as he hated seeing it in himself.

It was like fear, but the crippling undertones of loneliness and antipathy outweighed the former, leaving the splintered shell of something good in its wake. He wondered if Rin felt that way when his father left him, or when he was kicked out. He seemed to have recovered from it better than Haru had, if that was the case.

He slept well that night, and woke up the next morning to a light tap on his bedroom door.

“Haru?” Rin called lightly through the door.

He groaned as he twisted in his disturbed sleep. He had forgotten the note again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, the drama begins.

Sousuke frowned at his phone screen, reading Rin’s text.

 **Won’t be able to make tonight.** it read.

 **Okay, but you’re missing out.** he replied, his frown only deepening at the vagueness of Rin’s text.

He didn’t think too much of it, trying to brush it off and glancing back up at the road speeding past him, his hand tightening on the steering wheel and braking hard when the yellow traffic light turned red far sooner than he had anticipated. It wasn’t unlike Rin to cancel plans, but something was bothering Sousuke; something about the text he had gotten from him yesterday while he and Makoto were at the mall. He was going to go back as soon as he got the text, but after he said to forget about it, he figured – especially when it came to Rin – listening to him was probably best.

Last time he had said something related to ‘forget it’ and Sousuke didn’t listen and headed over to the apartment anyway, he threw a fit. He ended up only needing help cleaning cum stains out of cushions. He had made fun of him, resulting in Rin not speaking to him for two days.

He was on his way to Makoto’s, and he hadn’t gotten lost yet – at least, he didn’t think so. The streets looked vaguely familiar and he wasn’t next to a soybean field, so he felt pretty confident in himself.

He had been spending a majority of his free time with Makoto – when he had time to spare, too – but in a few days, they’d have to focus strictly on studies. The last day of exams was on Friday, and Sousuke still didn’t know Freud’s levels of the mind well enough to write a timed four page essay on them.

His study sessions with Makoto proved to be rather helpful, once he managed to focus on the words he was saying rather the one who was saying them. They’d gotten quite close over the last couple of weeks, and Sousuke began to wonder why they hadn’t started hanging out regularly before now.

“I can’t spend too much time with you, or I’ll have no time with Haru,” he had said once, his cheeks dusted pink as he pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

When the familiar house began to appear, he smiled to himself. His stomach clenched with excitement as he saw Makoto halfway hanging out the window waving to him.

“Don’t fall!” he screamed to him, slamming his car door shut and heading for the front door.

“I’m sure you’d catch me,” he yelled back, laughing afterwards.

Sousuke’s face burned and he hurried to the door, flinging it open and almost running into a woman with familiar green eyes and dark brown hair wearing a tight black suit. She was terrifyingly beautiful.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he said, his eyes widening. The woman just smiled.

“You must be Sousuke,” she chuckled, holding out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Makoto’s mother. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He smiled awkwardly, extending his hand and grasping hers lightly. He could feel his face burning impossibly warmer as he processed what she had said. She knew of him, which meant Makoto talked about him to her.

“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Tachibana,” he said quietly, dropping his hand to his side.

“I’m sure Makoto is waiting quite impatiently upstairs for you,” she smiled, and Sousuke couldn’t help but to smile back.

“Right.” He nodded once before he went up the steps – two at a time – and nearly kicked Makoto’s door down. “I nearly knocked your mother down.”

He laughed, and Sousuke couldn’t look away from the gleaming emerald irises.

“I assumed so, after hearing your excessive apology,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, we’re picking up Sei on the way. His little brother stole his car.”

“Momo?”

“Momo,” he repeated.

“What about Rin? I thought he was coming, too,” Makoto asked, fixing the sleeve of the beige button down. He stiffened at the mention of his best friend.

“And I thought you said Haru was coming, too,” he said, immediately regretting the bitter sound of it and feeling even worse when he saw Makoto glance at him with widened eyes. “Sorry, I just think there’s something going on with him, and he doesn’t tell me shit – I mean anything, sorry – anymore.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and fixing the other sleeve. “At least he had an excuse. Haru just didn’t want to go.”

“Fair enough,” Sousuke chuckled. There was a moment of silence a second too long, making it the slightest bit awkward. “Come on, Sei isn’t a patient person.”

After a blinding smile from Makoto, they headed back downstairs and out the front door.

“Bye, Mom!” he yelled through the house.

“She already left!” one of the Tachibana kids yelled back. Makoto smiled and slammed the door shut.

He took his keys out of his pocket, swinging them around on his finger, and looked at the little shark keychain Rin had given him when they were 7. He kept it in his mother’s jewelry box until he got his own car. The vibrant red was beginning to fade.

“What are you doing?” Sousuke asked, eyeing the green-eyed boy curiously as he waited at the door behind the driver’s seat.

“Waiting for you to unlock the car door,” he replied, the end of the sentence almost sounding like a timid question.

“Get in the front,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together.

“But Seijuro is coming, so it would be polite to –”

“I don’t care where Sei sits,” Sousuke said with a hint of a smile playing on his lips as Makoto looked away, his fingers still lingering on the locked door handle. “You’re sitting in front.”

He sighed, but went around to the front anyway and waited until Sousuke unlocked the door.

When he started driving, the ride seemed awkward. Maybe it was only on his part, though. Makoto seemed perfectly content, his eyes darting around at the traffic signs, occasionally meeting with Sousuke’s. Then he’d smile and go back to looking out the window.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Makoto asked suddenly, Sousuke’s foot immediately pressing on the brakes for a second before he recovered, wiping the inevitably terrified expression from his face to seem unfazed. He apologized quietly as Makoto rubbed his shoulder and sat back in his seat. “Sorry, that’s a personal question.”

“No, it’s fine. It just shocked me; but no, not right now. If I did, don’t you think I would have brought him along?” he asked, readjusting in his seat.

He pursed his lips, then smiled.

“I guess,” he said, tilting his head and shrugging. “I just thought I’d ask. You seemed like you were having a hard time thinking of a topic for conversation, so I thought I’d start.”

Sousuke nodded along.

“What about you?” he asked. “Do you?”

“Don’t you think I would have brought him along?” Makoto repeated, a smile stretching across his features.

“Touché,” he said. They fell silent as the road raced underneath them.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had a stable relationship since his high school days. There’d been flings and one night stands, but nothing serious. His last boyfriend was one of the guys in his group, along with Rin a few other guys, and he was captain of the co-ed soccer team and ended up being valedictorian after the girl who was _supposed_ to be valedictorian transferred to a different school. That relationship ended when he left Sousuke for the co-captain, a girl with chocolate brown hair that looked better in a ponytail than it did framing her face. Since then, he’d been too caught up in school for a relationship.

With Sei in the backseat, the ride seemed too short, filled with conversations that could have lasted far longer, but in time, they reached the restaurant, and Sousuke parked next to the familiar green car.

“Why is Chigusa always early?” Sei asked, rolling his eyes and pushing the door open.

“She isn’t,” Makoto smiled. “Sousuke’s just always late.”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, shoving Makoto’s shoulder.

“He’s not wrong,” Sei quipped before slamming the door.

“You shut up, too,” Sousuke said, stepping out of the car. They made their way toward the restaurant’s glass doors with Seijuro in front and the other two side by side.

Chigusa and Ai were standing at the entrance.

“Finally,” Chigusa said, crossing her arms. “You’re always late.”

“That’s what I said!” Makoto chuckled.

Sousuke groaned.

When they were seated at their usual table, the waitress came and went before the conversation turned to Seijuro.

“So, how’s it going with Rin?” Ai asked him.

“Not too bad,” he smiled, taking a long sip of his water before continuing. “Have you ever kissed him, Sou? He’s a great goddamn kisser – probably better than every other girl I’ve kissed.”

“No,” he said flatly. He already didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “I haven’t kissed my best friend.”

“You’re missing out,” he winked, and after receiving warning glares from Sousuke and Makoto, and uncomfortable glances from Chigusa and Ai, he leaned back with a sigh. “I’m just kidding. Chill. He’s really, really cool and we’re doing really, really well. He spent the night the other day.”

Sousuke stiffened in his seat, relaxing when he felt Makoto’s hand on his knee underneath the table. He glanced over at him questioningly, but didn’t get a response.

Eventually, the conversation drifted and the other three were talking amongst each other when Makoto leaned over slightly. Sousuke stopped breathing.

“Relax,” he breathed. “You know Sei isn’t going to do anything to him.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto’s fingers lingered on the silver door handle, ready to leave, but unwilling to go. Sousuke stared straight ahead, the last breathy chuckle still lingering between them. It was dark, the sun having set a long while ago, leaving the indigo sky littered with the earliest stars.

It hadn’t been silent for too long, and he certainly didn’t mind the silence – he’d been friends with Haru his whole life; he was used to silence – but now, with Sousuke, he didn’t want silence. He wanted to hear his voice, see his smile as he laughed, feel like a teenager all over again to make up for the careless years he’d never bothered to deal with in the past. That was a bad idea, though, and he knew it. He wasn’t a teenager, and there were more important things to worry about.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said, breaking the white reticence with the sentence that hung in the air for a second too long. “It was a lot of fun.”

Sousuke turned to him.

“It was great finally having you with us,” he replied, laying one arm on the console, the other draped over the steering wheel. “You ditched us for school and work.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said with a small smile. “School is about over anyway. Besides, I’m still waiting for that lunch you promised me a while back.”

He saw Sousuke’s eyebrows come together for just a second before the realization hit him and his eyes went wide, remembering what he’d said last week.

“I thought you forgot about that,” he said, looking back toward the house and running a hand through his hair.

“No way,” he laughed. “I’m free Saturday?”

“I’ll be at my parents’ place,” he said, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel. “Sunday?”

“I’ll be at Haru’s.”

“I can meet you there, then we can head out for dinner whenever you want,” he suggested, shifting in his seat to face him.

Makoto’s cheeks began to ache, but the grin on his face only widened as he nodded once.

“Sunday it is.”

Sousuke was smiling, too, the shadow of the dimple on his left cheek barely visible in the dark, but Makoto could still tell it was there. Eventually, both of their smiles faded, and they were left as the peaceful silence filled the car once again, their gazes locked on each other.

“I’ll see you Sunday, then,” Makoto said, quieter than he had intended, but fitting for the moment, he supposed.

He opened the car door and had one leg out onto the concrete before he felt a hand latch loosely onto his bicep. His flesh prickled where his fingers lingered. He turned back to face Sousuke, who sat stunned with wide eyes and parted lips, like a child who had gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have been. Makoto took note of how bright his irises looked with the harsh fluorescent street lights reflecting off the teal, and he watched him visibly relax as the seconds wore on.

“Can I help you?” he asked, adding a chuckle to the end.

Sousuke didn’t answer right away, and Makoto’s chest tightened, his minimal smile fading quickly as their eyes met, neither making the effort to look away.

Eventually, he released him, contracting his arm like he’d been physically burned by Makoto’s skin.

“You almost forgot this,” he said, reaching into the cup holder and grabbing the phone covered in worn frog stickers that had sat there unnoticed for most of the night.

Makoto felt his shoulders drop.

“Oh,” he said, barely above a whisper, forcing a smile and taking the phone from the boy’s hands slowly. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said, his voice just as quiet, echoing through Makoto’s mind. He turned, stepping out of the car and slipping the phone into his back pocket before leaning down.

“See you later,” he said, shutting the door.

“Hey!” Sousuke called, rolling the window down before Makoto could get far. “Don’t forget. Sunday.”

“Sunday,” he called back with a grin. “I won’t forget.” He couldn’t forget.

“Okay. Sunday.”

“Sunday.”

They waved one last time, then Makoto watched as the car he’d become so familiar with back out of his driveway and disappear. He was left with a foreign hollow feeling resonating in the pit of his stomach, one the summer night’s silence only accentuated. It was strange, he thought, to feel so happy, yet so discontent at the same time.

The house was quiet, only the soft murmurs of the television set in the living room buzzing throughout the house. Ren and Ran must have fallen asleep in front of the television again.

He sighed with a hint of a smile as he walked in, seeing the two kids spread out on the cream leather sofa – Ren with an arm hanging over the side, and Ran with a protective grasp on a bowl of popcorn. Low music rang softly throughout the room as Makoto nudged them awake.

“Makoto,” Ren said, the tired exclamation coming out muffled through a stifled yawn.

“You’re back from your date?” Ran asked, a yawn coming from her mouth as well.

“It wasn’t a date,” Makoto chuckled. “We went out with a group of friends.”

“But you like him,” Ren said, standing up and stretching.

“Says who?”

“You brought him over,” he answered flatly, looking up expectantly.

Makoto rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair before reaching back to shut the television off.

“He’s a very nice friend that I trust coming over. Now, go, up to bed.”

“It’s not even that late,” his sister whined.

“It was late enough for both of you to be tired enough to fall asleep in the middle of a cinematic masterpiece,” he replied, pushing them both toward the staircase.

“It was boring,” she mumbled.

“And that’s why it has to be regarded as a masterpiece. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” they said together.

He followed them up shortly after, sighing deeply as he slipped between the golden sheets. He fell asleep smiling to himself with the thought of Sousuke on his mind, but woke up having forgotten it all.

He had a text waiting for him after he showered.

 **Can I talk to you after class?** Seijuro had asked.

 **Sure. Is it bad?** he replied.

**Depends on who you ask.**

His stomach flipped, but after his first class, he found Seijuro pacing around the fountain at the center of campus.

“Sei, what’s go –”

“Dude, did _you_ know Rin had a sister?” he spat as soon as Makoto got close enough.

He flinched back, hugging his arms to his chest at the fierceness in Seijuro’s tone.

“Sou might have mentioned her once or twice,” he said, relaxing as Sei tugged on his fiery locks.

“Well, _shit_ ,” he sighed, pacing once again. He was shocked, speechless as his friend fumed, pacing aimlessly until he sat down on the edge of the marble fountain. He took a seat, too.

“Why?”

“I met this super cute girl last night, right?” he said, holding his hands up, making it look like he was trying to make her appear in front of them. “This absolutely, drop dead gorgeous girl is just hanging out by the hotel a few blocks down, and I go, “What are you doing out here so late?” and she goes, “My dad and I got into a fight again.” At this point, I really don’t give a shit _why_ she’s out here, because I’m just glad she is.”

“So, this girl was –”

“ _Yes_ ,” he hissed, gripping the roots of his hair again. “And after a while, I ended up asking if she wanted to stay at my place, because she refused to go back inside when it was getting colder by the second, and, well, basically, when I asked her for her name, she didn’t mention the fact that she was a damn Matsuoka.”

“You didn’t do anything with her, right?” Makoto asked, his stomach churning at the thought of Sei already hurting Rin. No wonder he didn’t talk to Sousuke about this.

“What? No, God, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I drove her back home just earlier, and before I dropped her off, she gave me her number, and –”

He paused, whipping his phone out and shoving into Makoto’s hands, the screen displaying the contact information for a girl named Gou Matsuoka.

He bit his bottom lip as he stared at the screen. He felt sick.

“What about Rin?”

“What about him?” he replied. “I’m not marrying the damn girl. Jesus, I’m not that stupid. Look, you can’t tell Sou. I’m not going to talk to her anymore, but I don’t need Sou on my back if he finds out about this, okay? Rin still is a hell of a lot more important to me.”

He nodded reluctantly, offering a small smile as he handed the phone back to Seijuro.

“Okay,” he said. “I have to get to my next class. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “See you ‘round. Thanks, man.”

Makoto walked to class with a knot in his stomach and a pounding in his head. He hoped he was right about Seijuro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM LITERALLY SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.  
> My excuse is that I had 2 concerts in 4 days, a hospital visit between them, and a date that took 5 hours longer than I had anticipated.  
> On the bright side, I already have most of Ch. 13 done.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst angst angst angst  
> Did someone ask for angst?  
> Nope, but you're getting it anyway.

Rin sat in the dimly lit restaurant, the windows darkened by the gray clouds outside, distorting the city traffic lights with streams of water. An unfamiliar man with a familiar color of deep black hair sat across the table with his hands folded underneath his chin. A small girl who looked very similar to Rin himself sat to his left, where she shifted uncomfortably. They had yet to begin a conversation.

He wondered who it would be, who would begin the first and plausibly last conversation of the evening. It would have been him, possibly greeting his sister, had she been alone. However, the man who was barely an inch taller than himself had been behind her, rendering him speechless in portending rage.

The waitress came and left, taking orders and clearly feeling the tension at the table. Rin had ordered light – he’d just gotten back from Haru’s, where Mr. and Mrs. Nanase had coerced him away from his work to try some appetizer ideas for the dinner party.

“Still not a big eater, huh?” his father asked, adding a breathy chuckle to the end. Rin remained expressionless, seeing Gou duck her head in shame. He almost smiled at her.

“I already ate,” he said flatly, looking at the back wall, where an ugly painting of what looked like a distorted white apple hung on the wall.

The tension only thickened.

“How have you been?” his father tried again, his voice quieter.

Rin glared at him, a mixture of rage and disbelief on his face.

“You don’t get to ask that,” he spat. “You don’t get to pretend to care now, after 16 years.”

“I had no other opportunity before now,” he said harshly, but his voice faltering halfway through and ended up sounding desperate.

“Bullshit,” Rin hissed. “What about the 10 years I was stuck in that house with a piece of shit for a step-father and a wretched bitch for a mother, huh?”

“I tried, Rin, really, but –”

“Please, Dad,” Gou exclaimed, keeping her voice quiet enough so that it wasn’t a distraction for the people around them, but loud enough to shock the both of them into silence. “Stop arguing. This is the first time in over 13 years I have seen my brother, and I would appreciate it if you would just let me have this moment. _Please_.”

They both looked at her blankly, Rin’s mouth slightly agape, as he had been ready to fire another insult, and his father’s lips in a tight line.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said finally, turning to Rin and sighing. “I’m sorry, Rin, and before you try to cut me off, I know that ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix the damage I’ve done. I didn’t come here looking for forgiveness or redemption. I came here looking for my son.”

“I’m not your son anymore,” he spat, his father not even flinching. “You gave that up, too.”

“I know I messed up.”

“Good; I can save my breath.”

“So, Rin, are you in school?” Gou cut in.

“Or maybe you don’t understand the severity of the past decade I’ve been through,” Rin continued, unintentionally ignoring the stranger of a sister who sat next to him.

“Maybe I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help,” his father said, his face flushing with hidden anger.

“Help? Like that time you ‘helped’ us by leaving?”

“What about a girlfriend?” Gou asked again, trying to diffuse the situation and being ignored again.

“I’m trying here, Rin,” he sighed.

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

“You aren’t letting me.”

Rin clenched his jaw, feeling his fingernails digging into his palms so viciously, he thought he might draw blood. He could feel his breath shaking with every inhalation, his heart pounding in his eardrums.

“I don’t give a _shit_ ,” he paused, holding a finger up before his father could cut in, “About your explanation of where you’ve been my whole life. I genuinely could not care less about hearing something that won’t change anything. The only reason I agreed to meet you was so that I can see that you’re actually taking care of _one_ of your kids.”

“You could ask me instead of mindlessly fighting in public,” she spat, a recognizable tone of rashness in her voice that reminded Rin of himself.

“Right,” he said after a pause, his narrowed eyes still locked on his father’s face. Eventually he tore them away from the maroon irises and locked eyes with his sister who still sat uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s been a while.”

The corners of her lips turned up as her eyes left his to glance at her feet hooked around the leg of her chair.

“Yeah, it really has,” she said quietly.

“I think you asked something pertaining to school,” Rin said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. He felt much more relaxed completely ignoring his father’s presence. Gou nodded, looking back up. “I got through one year, but I took this last year off to focus on work, since money was getting to be a really big issue.”

“Where do you work now?” she asked. The conversation was put on pause as the waitress set the food on the table in front of them at their respective places.

“I was in and out of retail and customer service and food chains until about a month ago,” he said, picking up the fork and poking a dark green piece of lettuce. “When I got fired there, I was honestly ready to give up around here and move to fucking Canada or something. Then Sousuke landed me a job working for a family on the northern side of town as their gardener.” He felt a smile grow on his face as he focused on pushing the lettuce around. A small cherry tomato rolled off the plate.

“Do you like it?” she asked. He could hear a smile in her voice.

“I love it,” he said, flipping his bangs out of his face and looking at her again. “It’s hotter than hell, but it’s really worth it.”

“Gardening, huh?” he heard his father say. Rin’s grip on the silverware tightened. “Like planting flowers and all that?”

“No,” he said evenly, “More like mowing the lawn that takes 10 hours, or scrubbing the sides of the pool that their son is weirdly obsessed with, or trimming their bushes so that each one is no more than 5 feet high, but taller than 4 and a quarter inch.”

His father was silent for a minute, cutting the bloody steak on his plate. Rin cringed at the sight of it dripping onto his shirt as he lifted it to his mouth.

“Who did you say you worked for again?”

“I didn’t say a name at all,” he bit. “Nanase.” He forced away a smile that tried to push through at the mention of the name. They were such a weird family, and he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but he liked being a minor part of it – the happiness, the jokes, the laughter, the familial banter. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced in a home.

“The ones who live in the Nanase Mansion up on the hill?” he asked, nearly choking on his food.

Rin just nodded blankly. What other Nanases would he be talking about?

“Do you know your boss’s names?” he asked, leaning forward.

“No, I only know their son’s name,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “I don’t see why this is such a crucial matter to you. I was talking to my sister, if I recall correctly.”

“I swam with a Nanase in high school,” he said. “I haven’t spoken to him in years – since graduation, actually.”

Rin narrowed his eyes, his lips turning up in disgust.

“You expect me to believe that someone like him was actually associated with someone like you?”

“You don’t have to believe it,” his father said, putting his fork down and leaning forward a bit. “It happened, though.”

“So, you’ve met their son?” Gou asked, cutting into the tension between the other two.

Rin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, he’s something else. Today he made me shower three times before I was allowed in the pool.” He was met with a blank look from Gou before he continued. “He doesn’t let anyone in his pool unless they’ve rinsed off in the pool house, and last week we clashed a little bit, so I jumped in fully clothed. He hasn’t let me near it until today, where he supervised me and made sure I was doing it right.”

“He kind of sounds like a jerk if you ask me,” she said with a tight smile, “But I’m glad you like it.”

“He can be,” he replied stabbing the tomato with his fork and looking at a drop of water drip off of it. He rethought his words. “He used to be. I couldn’t stand talking to him, because all he ever did was bitch about everything I was doing wrong, but now it’s like, I don’t know, he’s keeping me company during work.”

He popped the tomato in his mouth and cringed at the taste. He didn’t even like tomatoes.

There was a pause on her end of the conversation as Gou took a bite of her burger. Rin figured it was time for him to be the one asking questions. He spit the tomato out in his napkin before speaking to her.

“You’re in your last year of high school now, right?”

She nodded, swallowing her bite.

“Hold that thought, though. I have to piss,” she said, shoving away from the table and leaving Rin open-mouthed in shock at her choice of words.

“She’s definitely got your genetic attributes when it comes to manners,” he muttered to his father.

“And she’s got your bad attitude,” he replied impassively, letting a drop of blood splash onto his plate before putting the fork down. “I wanted to talk to you about something of importance, but first, you need to know what all happened, and what has been happening as of late.” Rin opened his mouth, but was cut off immediately. “You do give a shit. Don’t say you don’t. Just hear me out this one time, and if you still say you don’t care, that’s fine.”

Rin sat back, setting his fork down as gently as he could and crossed his arms.

“Fine,” he said. “Hit me with your best sob story, _Pops_. Humor me.”

“We were having financial problems. That wasn’t a secret. We were going paycheck by paycheck.”

“So you left to avoid having 4 mouths to feed, opting for only yourself and the baby.”

“No. I left because when your mother had Gou, she had postpartum depression that didn’t go away. It wasn’t safe for her to be around the baby.”

“But it was perfectly safe for me, wasn’t it?” Rin spat.

“Yes,” he replied firmly. “You were her pride and joy, Rin. You were the only one that made her smile. I didn’t want to leave your mother, but I needed to take care of my family. I knew you would be okay. She would have stolen the moon for you.”

“Bullshit,” he said, feeling his throat tighten at the mention of his mother, remembering the shortest period of time when things were alright. “She married a piece of shit who beat me until she took over for him. She didn’t give a fuck what happened to me after you left.”

His father looked sick, his face drained of all its color as he stared speechlessly.

“You wouldn’t know any of that, since you never bothered to show up, though,” he continued. He knew he should stop, that now was not the time he should be getting so worked up. But if not now, then when? “Everything she put me through, all the shit I’ve been through – it all goes back to you. _You_ left, _you_ quit caring, _you_ stopped supporting us. So now, _you_ don’t get to come back into my life when it’s finally getting better. _You_ don’t get to see me happy. _You_ don’t get to be ignorant of the life you ruined.”

By this time, Rin was bound to choke up any second now. There was a familiar sting in the back of his throat and he felt his eyes burning.

“Rin,” his father whispered.

“No,” he said. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize.” He took a deep breath and wiped away a tear before it could get far. “I need to leave. Tell Gou I said goodbye, and that she can call me anytime she wants. You have my phone number.”

“I really tried to find you years ago,” he muttered, so quietly that Rin almost didn’t hear him over the scraping of the chair on the floor. “Your mother said you didn’t live there anymore and had no idea where you could have been.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

His father didn’t reply as Rin threw a few bills on the table and left the restaurant. He didn’t get far, stopping at the corner and slipping into the alley between the restaurant and the boutique next door, slamming his fist against the cool brick.

“Fuck,” he hissed, trying one last time to choke back the tears, and ultimately failing as one trailed down his cheek. He rested his forehead against the wall.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to release every ounce of pent up anger all at the same time until his throat was raw, his eyes burned red, and his limbs went numb.

He didn’t, though. He straightened up and called for a cab instead.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

Rin gave him Seijuro’s address, and leaned back in the leather seat.

 

* * *

 

Haru sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour, watching his parents read over all that he’d arranged with the French chef.

“What does this word mean?” his mother asked, pointing to _pot au feu_.

“It’s a type of stew, I believe,” he said, straightening his back. His parents nodded along.

“He doesn’t have a dessert planned?” his father asked, his eyebrows coming together.

“That would be the _tulipes_ ,” he said. He felt a headache coming on.

“Aren’t those flowers?” his father asked.

“That’s tulips,” Haru sighed. “ _Tulipes_ are like a bowl for a dessert. I didn’t hear what he was making to put in them.”

They hummed in comprehension, and nodded, falling silent.

Haru felt a dull pain behind his eyes, squeezing them shut and rubbing his temples as his mind was painted with streaks of vibrant red that made his head hurt even worse.

Rin had taken off earlier than usual today, claiming he had a family emergency. Haru didn’t believe him, though. He had no family to be worried about. Over the days, his mood seemed to have increased significantly. His parents had somehow convinced him to take part in the tasting of the hors d’oeuvres they planned on serving.

He seemed to be having a genuinely good time, and at certain times, when their eyes would meet at a specific moment, Haru almost forgot they weren’t alone.

“Haruka,” his mother said. “Are you feeling alright? You don’t look well.”

“I’m feeling fine, Mother,” he answered, standing up. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to put the papers away for now. We can talk about the miscellaneous details another time.”

“Of course,” his father said, stacking them together and holding them up. “Here you are.”

Haru grabbed them quickly, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Haruka, one last thing,” his mother called. “Don’t forget the note for Rin again. He must be getting tired of always having to wake you up in the mornings.”

“It’s already pinned up, Mother,” he called back, barely loud enough for her to hear.

He fell asleep quickly that night, drifting off to the sounds of his father’s thunderous laughter as he spoke to someone over the phone.

When he woke up, it wasn’t quite dawn, the sun not yet high enough for it to be called morning, but enough so that the sky was streaked with the faintest pastels of pinks and yellows. The dull, clouded light filtered in through the windows, casting soft shadows on the carpet of his room. It was chilly, and he could see the misty fog settling over the lawn and dotting his window. He was up earlier than usual, and as he glanced outside, squinting at the morning rays, he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, rolling away from the window.

In time, there came a light tap on the front door, and Haru strained his ears to hear. That couldn’t be Rin; it was still only 7 in the morning. Besides, he remembered the note – he thought.

When the door opened, his father immediately chuckled.

“Toraichi!” he boomed. “It’s so great to see you again! How long’s it been?”

“Too long, my friend,” the man at the door laughed. “Far too long.”

“Come in,” his father said, a bit quieter. “I would invite you to meet my son, but he’s still asleep, I would imagine.”

“No worries,” the man laughed. “Let the boy sleep. I’m sure I’ll meet him someday.”

The voices faded, and a door clicked close. Haru sat up, curious about the mysterious man, but not surprised that a supposed friend of his father’s was visiting. He’d met far too many middle-aged men who didn’t get out much with a disturbingly prominent interest in the prostitutes of foreign countries – men whose comments were typically brushed off and ignored by his father – to take an interest in meeting any of them.

He wondered if any of the men were truly his father’s friends, or if they were just entranced by the idea of conversing with a Nanase in a casual manner. Haru felt his lips curl in disgust as he thought back to the countless people who looked at him like he was of a different species every time he went out in public. He spent years trying to ignore the looks, convincing himself that they were in his head, that not everyone who knew the Nanase name was looking at him expectantly.

He knew they were, though, and eventually, he had to accept the fact and learn to live with it. It was much easier to brush off now as opposed to when he was 15 and not allowed to leave the house without a perfectly groomed outfit with freshly combed hair; his parents were one step short of writing ‘Haruka Nanase’ on a sticky note and sticking it to his forehead.

His mother’s friends were much different in the way they carried themselves, and also in the fact that all of them assumed they _weren’t_ friends with his mother, thinking themselves worthy enough to be considered an acquaintance, but not enough to be called a friend.

As far as Haru knew, she genuinely enjoyed the company, the attention, the gatherings, everything – or she was just an excellent actress, in which case Haru needed to pick up a few tips.

His phone eventually buzzed on his bedside table, bringing him back from the almost-asleep-but-not-quite state he had been in for quite some time, and he looked at it for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing it. The harsh light burned his eyes until they adjusted to it, a text alert flashing on the screen.

 **I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll be there in 5 minutes.** the text read.

Haru squinted and glanced up at the number. It wasn’t familiar, but after looking at the time – 8:17 – he assumed it was Rin. He was late.

 **Don’t worry about it. Being a few more minutes late won’t kill anyone.** he replied.

The voices emerged from behind the doors downstairs, and laughter erupted throughout the house once more.

“Come by anytime. My door is always open, you got that?” his father said.

“You’re too good to me, Nanase,” the man chuckled.

“Nonsense,” his father replied. “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the man said, the click of the door finally echoing off the walls, eventually leaving the house just as silent as it always was.

“Haruka,” his father called up the stairs. “I know you’re awake by now. Can you please meet me in my office? I have a few more requests for the chef.”

He waited until his father’s footsteps faded, then slid out from under the sheets and into old, torn jeans and a faded t-shirt. He hoped his mother was already gone – she would have had a conniption had she seen that he had kept the jeans she told him to throw out over a year ago.

His father was leaned forward, hovering over a pile of papers, his left hand supporting his head as he typed something onto the calculator next to him.

“Yes, Father?” Haru said, leaning against the closed door.

“There are going to be more guests than I had originally intended, and because of cost, we’re going to have to change the meal plan,” his father replied, not looking up.

“Then I suggest you stop inviting every gleaming-eyed ‘old friend’ you happen to run into every year,” Haru said as politely as he could manage.

“Haruka,” he warned, his eyes still not leaving his desk. “I just need you to call the chef and tell him that the courses need to be adjusted. If he has a problem with it, we can afford to pay him a few hundred extra for the sudden change.”

“A few hundred that could go toward the cost of the food?”

“A few hundred that we could possibly not have for much longer, Haruka,” his father bit, finally looking up. “I’m not going to get into the details with you right now, but please, Son, I need you to do this for me.”

He was silent, unblinking, staring at his father’s pleading eyes with the wrath of the ocean crashing in the dark irises. He was curious by what his father meant by what he had said, but figured it wasn’t yet his problem to deal with. His only job right now was to do what his father had asked of him.

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave, but stopped as his father began to speak again.

“And for heaven’s sake, Haruka, throw those God-forsaken jeans away before your mother sees you and has a heart attack,” he sighed.

He smiled to himself.

“They’re my work jeans,” he said flatly.

“You don’t work!” his father called as the heavy door clicked close.

The smell of fresh bread came from the kitchen, and Haru made his way through the house, making sure to glance out every window he passed to try and catch sight of the familiar redhead. He sighed when he didn’t see him, hopping up onto his typical island barstool, a steaming plate of waffles topped with fresh fruit already at his place, and another one next to him.

“Good morning, Haruka,” the chef said, her arms covered with dough and her apron covered with flour. She was another one of his mother’s favorite employees, but Haru couldn’t see why. She was messy and unorganized. However, her bread was incomparable.

“Good morning,” he replied, peering around her to catch sight of the fluffy dough she was kneading with the heel of her palm.

“Will you be having company for lunch today?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder, smiling when she caught his curious gaze. He looked at his waffles quickly.

“Possibly,” he answered, picking up a knife and pushing a strawberry around the waffle. He hated strawberries. “Make an extra one just in case.”

“Which one are you expecting?” she asked lightly, a smile in her voice that made Haru roll his eyes. “Makoto or the cute gardener boy?”

“He’s not cute,” he mumbled, a laugh ripping from the chef’s mouth, making Haru jump at the volume. He still wasn’t used to her laugh.

“I guess that answers my question,” she chuckled. “He’s quite charming, if I may say so myself. Where is he this morning?”

“Late,” he answered, biting into a cherry.

“And you’re okay with that?” she asked, almost cautiously.

Haru shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him.

“I’m sure he has a reason.”

She hummed, then fell silent, the only sound between them being the steady _thump_ of her palm on the countertop.

As she set the freshly baked loaf on the stove, she glanced out the window and laughed lightly.

“There he is.”

Haru’s eyes immediately darted toward the window, tracing the soft outline of the redhead rushing toward the shed.

“Hurry and finish,” she said. “Then go and talk to him.”

“I don’t want to,” he said, pushing another strawberry out of the way.

“Fine,” she said, turning her attention back to the steaming loaf.

He took one more bite before setting the fork down and clearing his throat.

“Why are there 2 plates set?”

“I’m expecting him to join you one of these days. I’m just being prepared.”

“I don’t like strawberries,” he said, slipping off the stool and pushing the plate toward her.

“I know,” she chuckled, “But he does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a hell of a lot longer than I had planned it to be, holy moly.


	14. Chapter 14

Sousuke tilted his head back, leaning against the lawn chair in the Nanase garden, and risking a glance at Makoto, who sat next to him with sunglasses that took up half his face sliding off the edge of his nose and a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He’d already gotten caught staring at least 3 times in the past hour, but it didn’t seem to bother Makoto nearly as much as it bothered Sousuke when he’d caught him earlier.

The 4 o’clock sun beat down on them relentlessly, and he religiously wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. He thought he was used to the feeling of sweat after playing sports throughout high school, but apparently that wasn’t the case today.

“How are you not sweating?” he snapped, making Makoto jump. He noticed a while ago that he had never seen a drop of sweat on the boy. “It’s _literally_ 93° out.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair and taking off the sunglasses.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It feels like I do, but I never really noticed that I didn’t.”

Sousuke smiled and began to fan himself.

“You didn’t play many sports, I’m assuming,” he said.

“No, definitely not,” he chuckled, looking closely at the lens of the sunglasses. “Haru and I used to play tag.” He paused, smiling to himself. “The game only lasted 7 minutes tops. I think our record was 6 minutes and 42 seconds. It was 6 minutes and 42 seconds of me searching for him, honestly. It wasn’t even tag. One game, he just went home, and I ended up searching for him for half an hour, only to end up back at his house in tears, trying to convince his nanny that, no, Haru was _not_ in his room; he got lost at the park and was probably dead somewhere, all because I couldn’t find him.”

Sousuke laughed.

“He hasn’t changed much, has he?” he asked, looking back at the house where Rin stood next to Haru, both of their mouths moving at the same time, but neither of them looking agitated with the other.

“The only difference now is that he wouldn’t even agree to go back to that park,” he said, almost sadly.

There was a lull, his tone making Sousuke stiffen. He’d hit a nerve, whatever that nerve could have been.

“I taught Rin how to play basketball,” he said after a few seconds. “He hated it, but kept at it for years. He played until he could beat anyone who played him one-on-one, because he hated being bad at something even more.”

“He hasn’t changed much either, huh?” Makoto chuckled.

“Not really,” he smiled. “If anything, his pride has gotten more profound by the year.”

“Sousuke,” Haru called from the patio, “Makoto, come inside.”

“Oh, come on!” Rin exclaimed. “I won the bet, and you’re giving my prize to them?”

“You didn’t win yet,” he said, eyeing Sousuke and Makoto as they approached.

“What bet?” Makoto asked.

“The one that said –”

“The one that said that I was going to fire Rin if he says anything else,” he said, cutting Rin off, and leading them to the kitchen.

Sousuke smiled as Rin stood in shock, his face soon contorting into annoyance.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he mumbled. “Not this again.”

“What’s the prize then?” he asked, taking a seat between Makoto and Rin, all of their eyes on Haru’s back as he stuck his head into the pantry.

He didn’t answer, eventually returning to the counter with a bag of cherries and a blender.

“A cherry smoothie,” Rin smirked.

“Do you need help?” Makoto asked, his eyebrows coming together.

“Haru has to do it himself,” Rin cut in. “That was part of it.”

“I’ve got it,” he said, ignoring Rin and plugging it in, searching in the refrigerator.

Sousuke caught Makoto’s worried gaze, smiling and watching the way his features relaxed. His eyes glimmered and his nose crinkled just enough for it to be noticeable, and he was oblivious to everything around him except for Makoto, just for a second, until a loud crash broke them apart.

“Haru!” Makoto exclaimed, pushing himself from the island. “You don’t even know how to make a smoothie. Sit down; I can do this.”

“No, Makoto,” he said coldly. “I can do it myself.”

“You were going to put ice cream in it,” he said, gesturing to the metal bowl laying on its side surrounded by a few scoops of rapidly melting ice cream.

“I was making sure it would stay cold,” he deadpanned, turning his face away as Rin burst out in laughter.

“Damn, and I thought Sou sucked at this stuff,” he laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” Sousuke snapped, but with a smile playing on his lips. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied. “Your mom still makes you casseroles every weekend.”

“You love her casseroles just as much as I do, and you know it.”

“Haru, please sit down before you add flour to thicken it,” Makoto pleaded.

“I wasn’t going to,” Haru replied. “I know that much.”

“You burned the soup last week, Sou,” Rin scoffed.

“It was a chowder, and I thought it said to boil it for 20 minutes on high.”

“You don’t boil soup for 20 minutes on high,” Makoto cut in. “It’s on high until it boils, then you turn it down to low.”

“It was chowder! And yeah, I got that,” Sousuke spat, “After the stuff exploded all over my stove.”

“Makoto, sit down,” Haru demanded.

“Are you sure?”

“Dammit, Tachibana, would you listen to him? He’s getting annoying,” Rin snapped.

Sousuke’s head began to pound as the shouting continued until he slammed his palms on the countertop, forcing the others to silence.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Haru, do you actually know how to make a smoothie?”

“No, but –”

“Sit down, _please_ , and let Makoto do it. Rin, if you say something about how Haru has to do it, you two can have your own damn smoothie date and let him destroy his kitchen some other time, yeah?” he said calmly, watching the various eyes on him flicker over his face.

Eventually, Rin sighed and leaned back as Haru took the seat next to him, where Makoto had been sitting.

“4 cherry smoothies, coming right up,” he smiled, turning toward the fridge and getting the ingredients.

“I’m not having a smoothie date with you,” Haru mumbled to Rin.

“I wouldn’t want to have one with you,” he spat back.

Sousuke rubbed his temples, trying to block out the quiet banter between the two next to him, ultimately failing.

He’d been at the mansion for an hour or so, and every time he was around Makoto, he couldn’t help but feel the complete opposite as how he felt around Rin and Haru. They were constantly bickering, and it drove him insane.

With Makoto, though, he felt like the world could be falling down around them, and all that mattered was being with _him_.

He glanced up, watching Makoto’s back as his muscles tensed up with every movement.

“When are you leaving?” Haru asked.

“In a bit,” Sousuke said, his eyes flickering over to meet the deep blue irises. He looked away quickly, not liking the way his stomach churned uncomfortably when he looked at him.

He still didn’t like him too much, but he believed they had a silent, mutual agreement that they could exist civilly in the same space for extended periods of time, for the sake of their friends.

“Who’s driving?” he asked.

“Me,” Makoto answered, glancing over his shoulder and smiling at Haru. “Why? Do you need me to pick something up for you?”

“No,” he said, looking back at Rin. “I was just asking.”

“You’re too curious for your own damn good, you know that?” he mumbled.

“You’re too bad at trimming bushes for your own damn good,” he said back flatly.

Rin groaned.

Sousuke slid off the stool, not able to handle listening to them for much longer without taking some painkillers, and leaned against the counter to watch Makoto blend the ingredients.

“Please, hurry,” he begged quietly. “I think they’re going to tear each other in half if we don’t do something.”

“They’d tear each other in half even if we _tried_ to do something,” he chuckled. “They don’t pay any attention to us once they get into it.”

Sousuke scoffed, rolling his eyes.

In a matter of a few more seconds, Makoto was pouring the thick, pink liquid into tall glasses.

“The straws are in the cabinet above your head,” he said, gesturing to a place behind Sousuke.

“I’ll get it,” he said, stepping away from the counter and reaching up to open it.

“No, I just needed to get past you. I can get it.”

Their hands touched, and he could have sworn they lingered there a second too long.

“I’m already here, just move your hand,” Sousuke said, pushing Makoto’s hand out of the way.

“Fine,” he said, pulling his hand back.

He grabbed four straws and handed them to Makoto before he realized Rin and Haru staring at them.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Rin said. Haru looked away without saying anything.

“I need some air,” he mumbled, grabbing his smoothie and returning to his lawn chair outside.

He hated the heat, but _damn_ , did summer feel good. It was the first day he was officially free of schoolwork, and he’d never felt so relieved. He loved university – he’d always had an interest in school, especially once he met Makoto and Seijuro and the others – but he couldn’t say he missed it yet.

Makoto joined him almost immediately, leaning back and taking a sip of the smoothie as he replaced the sunglasses on his face.

They were silent for a while.

“Let’s play a game,” Makoto said, turning to face Sousuke. He could see his reflection in the lenses.

“A game?”

He hummed in confirmation as he took another sip.

“What kind of game?”

“Tell me a secret, and I’ll tell you one.”

“No,” he said quickly, turning away.

“Fine, it won’t be a secret,” he tried again. “Just a random fact about anything.”

“Starfish regenerate their limbs,” he mumbled.

“Anything about you,” Makoto chuckled.

“You already know mostly everything,” he shrugged. “We’ve been friends for a while now, you know.”

“I still don’t know what your favorite color is.”

“Green.”

“Or your favorite food.”

“Curry.”

“Or your favorite kind of tea.”

“That’s bullshit. You used to bring me tea before class,” he snapped.

“Okay, so I knew that one,” he chuckled. “I’m serious, though.”

“Who cares about favorite colors?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Then elaborate.”

“What do you want to do for the rest of your life?”

He paused, his lips slightly parted as his reflection stared back at him.

“I still don’t know for sure,” he said.

“What are your parents like?”

“You can meet them sometime,” he mumbled, stirring the smoothie with the straw. He could feel the atmosphere around them beginning to change, and the humid air became that much thicker.

There was silence between them.

“Okay,” Makoto said. He could hear a smile in his voice.

“‘Okay’ what?”

“Okay, I’ll meet them.”

 _Oh_.

“Is that okay?”

“I’m the one who offered,” he said, avoiding Makoto’s gaze he could feel through the sunglasses. “Of course it’s okay.”

“Okay,” he grinned.

There was more silence, then they heard the click of the door opening and closing, almost instantly afterwards hearing a groan escape Rin’s mouth.

“Hurry up and finish,” Sousuke mumbled. “I can’t listen to them have one more argument or I’ll literally have to tranquilize them both.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto grinned, brushing a lock of hair from his face and watching Sousuke try to ward off an oncoming smile.

The restaurant smelled like pasta sauce and fresh bread, and the dull hum of the groups of people sounded like white noise. Makoto enjoyed watching people interact with each other. Groups of 2 interested him far more than the larger groups of middle-aged businesspeople. He found it profoundly interesting to watch the expressions contort and change with each word that came from the other’s mouth. He often wondered if people watched him and Sou the same way he watched others.

“You suck at this,” Sou said, still not breaking a smile.

“I’ve beaten you the past 4 times,” he said.

“You flicked a piece of noodle at me,” he bit. “Of course I’m going to blink.”

It had been nearly an hour they’d been seated at the table with an off-white tablecloth. The waitress had come and gone multiple times, interrupting the staring contests between them.

“I’m going to beat you again,” he said quietly, leaning forward, avoiding the plate covered with sauce that sat in front of him.

Sousuke leaned forward, too, a hint of a smirk barely showing. His hands folded on top of the table.

“In your dreams,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes, but not blinking.

His eyes were beginning to burn, and he imagined Sousuke’s were, too, but he wasn’t willing to give up so easily. He was on a roll. Besides, Sou had said that the next time he won, they would leave. He wasn’t quite ready.

From his peripheral vision, he saw the waitress lingering a few feet away, and he could imagine that Sousuke was telepathically _daring_ her to interrupt them again, “making him lose.”

“I think squinting counts as a blink. I win,” Makoto said.

“Bull. I’m winning this round.”

A few more seconds passed before he could feel his contact nearly dry out and fall onto the table. He blinked, rubbing his eyes hard.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, a single decibel too loudly, attracting the attention of a few surrounding parties. “I won. We can go now. I’ve got the check.” He motioned for the waitress to come.

“No, I’ve got it,” Makoto said, holding his hand out to the approaching waitress, but keeping his eyes locked on Sousuke.

“I’m getting déjà vu,” he said quietly. “I swear you said that 2 hours ago, and if I recall correctly, _I got it_.”

“One check, or two?” the woman asked.

“One,” they said simultaneously.

“I’ll get it, ma’am,” Sou said.

“No, that’s not necessary,” Makoto told her. “I’ve got it today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want two?” she asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” they said together.

She left, and their eyes met again.

“Sou, come on,” he pleaded.

“Mako, come on,” he said, mocking the tone of his voice.

He pursed his lips.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors,” he said. “Winner gets the check.”

“Deal,” he grinned. “I’ll beat you in this, too.”

On the count of three, Makoto played Rock, Sousuke played Scissors.

“Best 2 out of 3,” he mumbled.

Makoto sighed, but he couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his lips.

“I win again,” he said, as his Scissors cut Sou’s Paper.

He slipped his credit card and the receipt back into the waitress’s hand when she returned, and they soon left the restaurant.

Makoto was all too aware of the brushing of Sousuke’s shoulder against his own as they walked to the car, the touch tingling over his flesh even through the fabrics between them. It was slightly distracting; he heard Sousuke speaking, entranced by the sound of his voice buzzing quietly in his ear, but the words were lost somewhere.

“Saturday, right?” he heard Sousuke ask.

“What about Saturday?” he asked, looking away to hide the light blush of his cheeks, trying not to make it obvious that he hadn’t been listening.

“The dinner party,” he said. “Do you want to meet at your place or at the mansion?”

“I’ll be at Haru’s all day, actually. I’m helping with some last minute – literally last minute – organization and decoration,” he answered, glancing at Sousuke and watching the teal irises glint in the setting sun’s orange glow.

He nodded once as they approached the car, trailing his fingers along the hood as he went around to the passenger’s side.

Makoto opened the driver’s door and slipped in, starting the car.

There was a pause in the conversation, something that had become quite common in the past few days, before Sousuke spoke up. The sun cast long shadows on the streets, the whole city nearly consumed by the transparent black coating it, but the deep orange glint still remained, clouds the color of fire burning across the sky.

“You should come over,” he said, the muted tone nearly indistinguishable amongst the sound of the tires and the steady beat of the hushed radio harmonizing with one another.

“Sure,” he said, not glancing over, but just smiling minimally to himself.

Sousuke turned the radio up a notch or two before settling back into his seat, and they stayed, unspeaking, in the sunset’s tranquility for most of the way back to Sou’s.

The silence soon came to close, as did Makoto’s composure, as the teal-eyed boy in the passenger seat sat up abruptly as a streak of red and orange on the sidewalk caught his attention from his peripheral vision.

“Stop the car,” he shouted, and Makoto pulled the car over instantly, almost hitting the person coming from behind them in the other lane.

“What happened?” he asked, putting the car in park and looking frantically over at him.

“I swear to God, I just saw Rin with boobs,” he said, his eyes wide, glancing around outside. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sou,” Makoto said, grabbing onto his forearm before he could fling the door open. “You can’t go up to a stranger and accuse them of being your best friend who grew a pair of breasts in a matter of a few hours. Haru is one I could see doing something like that, but you aren’t.”

“Makoto, I swear on my life I know her,” he said, placing his hand lightly over the one that gripped his arm, peeling the fingers from his skin.

“You know a lot of people,” he said, pulling his hand back. “You go to one of the biggest universities in the country. You’ve probably seen her if she goes to school with us.”

“No, she’s not from school,” he said, visibly relaxing in his seat. “I just feel like I knew her a long time ago. I’m just going to see if I know her. It’s not like she’s going to kill me.”

He rolled his eyes, and Makoto’s stomach flipped as he watched him open the door and slip out.

“I’ll be right back,” he smiled. Makoto couldn’t bring himself to nod.

It was a little more than a few seconds after the car door had slammed shut, leaving him in the dead silence, that he connected the streaks of red and orange he had seen with Seijuro and Gou.

He felt his stomach flip once again as he glanced back and saw Sousuke – now barely a noticeable figure a block away – frozen in place, and two other figures with burning hues of hair standing across from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, I've gotten a few messages on tumblr and on here that say this sounds American, and it does, I know, but I'm writing what I can. I'm sorry if it's too American for you, but lmao  
> It's an AU, and I haven't said where they're from, so just keep an open mind about the setting, please!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ACTINGJESTER  
> THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY TODAY
> 
> And happy birthday to everyone else who's reading this on their birthday! It means the world to me!

“You’re sure we’re okay?” Seijuro asked, his fingers tugging at the edge of his tank top.

He’d been pacing for the past 4 minutes, and it was driving Rin insane. He’d asked Sei multiple times to just sit down, but he had insisted on pacing and talking.

He’d gotten a call from Sousuke barely 12 hours ago, demanding that Rin had to speak with Seijuro, whom he had found with his sister. After speaking with Makoto – when Sousuke wasn’t around – he learned that Seijuro had met his sister one night, and had apparently run into her again yesterday.

The opalescent light seeping in through the dusty windows made the room shimmer with the pale tints of the rising sun, and Rin rubbed his eyes. It was too early, and if he was being honest, he’d only heard half of what Seijuro had said – something about how his dad was being an ass to her, and then something else about last week.

“Yes, Sei,” he said, dropping his hand to his lap, leaning back in the creaky kitchen chair. It was going to break one of these days, and with his luck, he’d be the one sitting in it. “I’m not your boyfriend, you know.”

“Well,” he shrugged, glancing away, but finally ceasing his pacing and stopping right in front of Rin, “I know, but I still don’t want you to think I’m going to like, try to get with you _and_ your sister. I just bumped into her; I swear to God it was a coincidence.”

Rin sighed, pushing himself up and cracking his back.

“Seijuro Mikoshiba, I’m going to say this one more time,” he said lightly, taking a step forward and trailing his fingertips along Seijuro’s cheekbone. “It’s fine. I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

He felt warm arms wrap around his back and pull him closer to the fiery-headed boy in front of him. His own arms wrapped around his neck.

A few more seconds of silence passed as they remained like that, Rin’s chin resting on Sei’s shoulder, small circles being etched onto his skin through the thin t-shirt.

“Sei, if you don’t mind, you woke me up at 5:30 in the morning, and I’m tired as shit,” Rin said, pulling away and dropping his hands.

“I wanted to catch you before you went to work,” he said, unraveling his arms from around Rin’s waist.

“I don’t have work today,” he said with a hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips. He watched Seijuro’s eyes get wide.

“Well, shit,” he breathed. “Sorry, man.”

Rin laughed.

“I’m going back to bed,” he said, turning his face away as a yawn escaped his mouth.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later then, right?” he asked, an air of uncertainty in his tone.

“Sou will probably be dropping by later, if he isn’t too busy doing Makoto, but you can come by tonight if you want,” he offered.

“Yeah,” Seijuro grinned. “That’s great. I’ll see you tonight.”

A short kiss and a sweet grin later, Seijuro shut the door, and Rin went back to his bedroom, where the soft shadows slept on the bedspread, illuminating the invisible flecks floating in the air.

It didn’t take long for him to drift back to sleep, and when he woke again, the room was just as bright as it was outside. Likewise, it was just as hot – or at least pretty damn close.

“You’re finally awake, huh?” he heard, sitting up and his head whipping in the direction of his door, where Sousuke sat against the wall, partially hidden behind the bed.

“How do you always know when I’m up?” he asked, rubbing his neck where something had popped. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and he tried pushing it back, but ultimately failed, giving up and turning to his friend.

“You stop snoring,” he muttered, pushing himself up. “Did you talk to him?”

“Who?”

“Who?” he mocked, throwing his phone on Rin’s lap and throwing himself down next to him. The bed creaked and groaned as Rin tried to pry his legs from underneath Sousuke to no avail.

“I don’t snore.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And get off my damn legs, fatass.”

“It’s muscle, actually; not fat.”

“Sousuke, I swear to every god ever imagined –”

“Yeah, you’ll gut me like a fucking fish,” he said, waving his hand in front of Rin’s face, cutting him off. “We need to talk.”

“It’s my day off. Can’t I just take a damn break?” he sighed, giving one last push before he gave up, tossing the phone onto Sousuke’s stomach, a quiet, hollow _clunk_ following.

“You woke up at 1 in the afternoon,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows, staring at Rin with an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Seijuro came by before 6 this morning,” he said through a yawn, lifting his bare arms over his head, and catching a whiff of himself in the process. “Damn, I have to shower.”

“You talked?” he asked.

“He did,” Rin said. “And talked and talked and talked and –”

“Did you end it?”

“We haven’t even started anything, Sou,” he sighed. “Chill out. He explained that it was completely coincidental, and I believe him. I trust him, because he’s my friend. I think you should trust him, too, because he’s your friend as well.”

“Rin,” he said sternly. Rin rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need your protection anymore, Sou,” he said softly. “I’m not that homeless, 14 year old kid I was 6 years ago.”

There was a lull, and Rin’s eyes drifted to the window, where the sunlight invaded, covering each corner of his room. He squinted, peeling the uncomfortable strands of hair off his forehead, and releasing another yawn.

“I think the only thing that upsets me is that he’s spent more time with her in the past week than I have in 17 years,” he said, a small smile finding its way onto his lips as he avoided Sousuke’s gaze.

He didn’t respond for some time, the heat suffocating them slowly, until he spoke up.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, pushing himself up, attempting to drag Rin out of the bed with him.

“I need to shower, dumbass,” he said, clawing at the fingers encasing his wrists. “I just said that.”

“Just put on some deodorant and that stupid flannel that smells like baby powder, and you’ll be fine.”

They stopped moving for just a second, Rin’s eyes flickering to the flannel that was hanging on the edge of the door. When he glanced back at Sousuke, he caught him in a headlock, his face positioned right below his armpit.

Sousuke gasped before holding his breath.

“Jesus,” he rasped. “You reek.”

“It’s okay,” Rin smirked. “Some deodorant and a fucking flannel will fix it right up.”

He released Sousuke as an elbow hit his side.

“Asshole,” they said simultaneously, grins breaking out over their features.

“Seriously, though,” Sousuke said, “I’m not waiting. So, deodorant or not, I’m leaving in five.”

“At least let me piss,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Five minutes later, they were in the car, Sousuke gagging in the driver’s seat at the amount of cologne Rin had applied.

“Where are we going?” he asked. “Do you have a date with Makoto, and you’re bringing me along as a third wheel?”

“Why are you such an asshole?” he sighed, but Rin could see a tiny smile. “No, he has work today.”

“How did it go yesterday?” he asked, his tone a little bit less than interested.

“Pretty well, I guess,” he shrugged, the car coming to a jolting stop at a red light. “He wouldn’t let me pay.”

“What a gentleman,” he mumbled, eyes locked on the asphalt in front of them.

 “We went back to my place.”

“And that’s about all I’m willing to hear on that topic,” Rin muttered as a text popped up.

“I meant my parents’ place,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He met them.”

 “Do you think he’s gay?” Sou asked after a while.

“Who?”

“Makoto.”

“No, I think he’s completely straight.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t ask me,” he said. “I’m not the one who’s doing him in my dreams.”

He glimpsed over at Sou.

“I’m joking,” he said. “I think he’s a little less gay than you, but that’s okay, since you’re such a pussy.”

“Shut the hell up,” he grinned, slapping Rin with the back of his hand.

“Can you go to that one restaurant on North?” he asked.

“It’s the next left, right?”

“Right,” he nodded.

“Wait, right?”

“No, left. What?”

“I’m turning left, correct?” Sousuke asked, gesticulating to the left with his right hand.

“Yes?” Rin said, his voice rising in confusion.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Why here?”

“I like their breadsticks,” he said.

“How’s it going at work?” Sousuke asked, leaning over the wheel to see the street signs.

“Alright, I guess,” he shrugged. “I haven’t seen Haru lingering around any windows watching me lately, so that’s something.”

“Do you like hanging out with him?”

“I don’t hang out with him,” he scoffed. “He’s alright to be around while I’m on break, and it was okay when he used to chill while I worked, but he hasn’t done that lately. He’s been busy now that his parents are back.”

“Do you think he’ll go back to watching you all the time when they leave again?”

He shrugged, not audibly answering as his gaze stayed locked on the familiar sidewalks and the unfamiliar passersby on them. If he was being honest, he kind of hoped it would go back to how it had been the days before the Nanase parents came back, but he wasn’t being honest, and he wasn’t going to admit it.

“You should ask him to come out sometime,” Sou suggested. “Makoto sucks at persuading him, but your persistent, stubborn ass could get a politician to tell the truth.”

“Yeah, like that’ll happen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m pretty sure the last time that shit left his house was when he went to etiquette training camp, or whatever it’s called.”

“What the hell is that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

The restaurant buzzed with hushed conversations and muted music, and Rin sighed, slumping down in the chair.

“I don’t get him,” he mumbled. “He’s so – I don’t know – moody. One second, he’s almost laughing – it’s more of a nasally chuckle – and the next he’s arguing like a toddler.”

“You’re equally stubborn,” Sousuke said, rolling his eyes with a small smile. “What do you expect?”

“I expected a lot,” he hissed. “I expected him to be charismatic like his parents, kind of snobby, a lot attractive, and I expected his handwriting not to suck.”

“His handwriting can’t be that bad,” he chuckled.

Rin glared at him, reaching into his wallet and pulling out the almond-colored invitation.

“Read this,” he said, handing it across the table.

He squinted, turning it around a few times until he mumbled, “Is that supposed to be an _I_?”

“Yes, and the only reason I know that is because I have to read his shitty notes every day now.”

“So, his handwriting sucks. Why are you so pissed off lately?”

He sat back again, shoving the invitation into his wallet.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “There’s something off about him. The night I met with my father and Gou –”

“Friday?”

“How did you know?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

“Sou.”

“Rin.”

“How did you know my father was back and that I met with him?”

“I can put 2 and 2 together, Rin,” he said evenly. “Why didn’t you tell me it was bothering you?”

“I was going to,” he shrugged. “You were with Makoto, and I didn’t think it was worth it. Anyway, the day I made plans with my father, I ended up at the park, and so did he. He tried to get me to talk to him like an old friend. It was weird.”

“Have you ever thought that he was worried about you?”

“He’s my boss,” Rin scoffed. “As long as I show up to trim his fucking bushes, I doubt he cares.”

“Do you even believe yourself anymore?” Sousuke asked shaking his head, his voice barely audible from behind the menu.

 

* * *

 

Haru sighed for at least the twelfth time that hour, following the heels of Makoto’s shoes in front of him.

“Why aren’t you with Sousuke?” he asked, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he navigated around the store.

“I had work,” he said over his shoulder. Haru could hear a smile in his voice. He always heard the smile in his voice. “Remember?”

“Hey, Haru,” Nagisa called from an aisle over. “What about this suit?”

“I’m not getting a new suit,” he said, far too quietly for the Hazuki boy to hear him.

“What?”

“He said ‘let’s see it,’” Makoto called.

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbled to Makoto’s back.

They rounded the aisle and nearly ran into Nagisa, holding the small, yellow tag with a 3-digit number on it required by the store. Their suits were imported from around the world, each one custom made by designers, whether they were famous or just plain rich.

“I have to find a worker,” he said, hopping on his tip-toes to try to see over the aisles. “Find someone for me, Makoto.”

“I’m not getting a new suit,” Haru repeated, catching Nagisa’s eyes.

“Then it’s a good thing it wouldn’t be for you anyway,” he smiled, grabbing Haru’s wrist as Makoto wandered off to find an employee. “I saw it, but I thought Rin would look really good in it. Don’t you think so?”

Haru didn’t say anything, just stared blankly at the stark black suit that looked exactly like the hundreds of other ones in the store, save for the slight sheen of the fabric and the golden plated buttons.

“It’s an Alexander Amosu special,” Nagisa whispered, his hot breath making Haru cringe. “It was supposed to be a part of his collection last year, but then the model apparently got powder foundation on it. So, he let this place take it off his hands.”

“The last Alexander Amosu suit my father bought was when he was over in the States,” Haru said, still eyeing the suit with minor interest. He wondered if Rin owned a suit. He didn’t look to be the type to wear one. “They paid over $100,000 for it.”

“Wow,” he sighed. It was silent for second, both pairs of eyes locked on the suit. “How much is that in our currency?”

“More than I’m willing to spend on shiny fabric and fake gold buttons,” he said, turning sharply away from the suit as his father’s words from the other day echoed through his mind.

_Money they might not have for much longer._

He didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“I bet you could get it for half the price, because you’re a Nanase,” he pouted, grabbing his wrist and tugging him gently back.

Haru’s stomach flipped as the words left the blonde’s mouth.

“I’m not going to use my name to get things,” he spat. “I thought you’d understand that much, _Hazuki_.”

“Well, I’m just saying,” he sighed, releasing his wrist. “If it’s about money, you can pay half and I can pay the other half. Simple.”

“Nagisa, I’m not –”

“What about a third? Makoto would definitely pitch in,” he said, cutting him off.

“Pitch in with what?” Makoto asked from behind Haru.

“Buying the suit.”

“You’re getting the suit?”

“I’m not getting the suit,” Haru said flatly, “Not for me, and definitely not for Rin.”

“We could buy the suit and give it to Rin as an early birthday present, Makoto!” Nagisa exclaimed a bit too loudly, earning a chorus of _hush_ from the front of the store. “When is his birthday?”

“February,” Haru said.

“Late birthday? Come on, Haru, you know he’d look like a millionaire in it.”

He sighed, clenching his fists uncomfortably tight.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” a woman with short black hair asked from behind them.

“He wants the Amosu suit,” Nagisa said, handing her the small ticket. “Is it available still?”

“For the right amount of cash,” she said with a delicate smile. “I just sold it, but I can be rebought.”

“Haruka Nanase would like to purchase this suit,” Nagisa said, pointing vigorously behind him.

“Oh,” the woman said, her eyes widening as her back straightened up. “Well, that certainly changes things.”

Haru clenched his jaw, digging his fingernails into his palms at the woman’s change in attitude. Nagisa _knew_ how he felt about using his name.

“Your father already purchased the suit, sir,” she said, Haru’s body relaxing only after a few seconds of processing her words.

“Wait,” Makoto said, forcing away a grin. “Mr. Nanase already bought this exact suit?”

“That’s correct,” she nodded. “If you’re ready to take it home, we can bag it up for you immediately.”

“We’ll do that,” Makoto said, taking a quick glance at Haru. “Thank you.”

She bowed her head before hurrying about the store, bagging the suit up while relaying the information for taking care of it, and in a matter of minutes, they were on their way back to the Nanase Estate.

“You didn’t get a suit for yourself,” Haru said to Makoto.

“Mine and Sousuke’s are being tailored as we speak,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the street. “He doesn’t know that yet, though.”

 “How does he not know?” Haru mumbled, glancing out the window. The sky was gray with portending thunderstorms, and the air was thick and heavy with unfallen rain drops.

“We went to go get our measurements, then he decided that he couldn’t spend that much on a suit, but I had already paid for them.”

“I wonder who Rin is going to bring,” Nagisa said from the backseat. “Do you think he’ll bring that one guy?”

“What guy?” Haru asked, glancing over his shoulder, ignoring the foreign tug in his chest.

“Probably,” Makoto shrugged, taking a risky glimpse at Haru before continuing. “His sister is in town. Maybe he’ll bring her instead.”

“What guy?” Haru repeated, his voice hardening, demanding Makoto’s attention.

“I’m bringing Rei,” Nagisa beamed. “He didn’t want to, because he lives so far away, but his parents insisted that he get his ass up here this weekend.”

He got no answer – only a startled look from Makoto – and promptly turned his attention to the streets that rapidly became familiar. The silhouette of the estate came into view, and Haru sighed; whether it was from relief or irritation, he wasn’t sure.

Nagisa went home immediately, but Makoto stuck around for a bit, sitting up straighter than a telephone pole as he laughed with Haru’s mother.

He, however, sat minimally hunched over in the seat next to Makoto, swirling his thick, red wine around the bottom of the crystal glass. The color was enchanting, just enough left in the bottom of the glass to be mildly transparent. It was so familiar; like irises glinting in the sunlight and locks of hair reflecting it.

He somewhat loathed his parents’ return, fully acknowledging the fact that their returning meant little free time to spend around the gardener boy he’d become so entranced by as of late.

“That store your father buys his suits at called earlier,” his mother said. “They said you picked up an order.”

“Yes, we did,” Makoto beamed, answering for Haru as he sipped his wine. “I hung it up on his door.”

“That wasn’t Haruka’s,” she chuckled. “His father insisted that Rin have a proper suit to wear this weekend.”

Haru straightened up, relatively relieved at hearing that it wasn’t his, and that it was, in fact, Rin’s. He hid the smile that creeped up on his lips behind the glass of wine. Nagisa had been right, after all. Rin would look like a millionaire.

As he subconsciously listened to the buzzing of the lighthearted conversation taking place less than 2 feet away from him, a soft murmur of a knock came from the front door, capturing their attention for just a brief second. Haru glanced toward the hall, catching a familiar glimpse of the blonde head of hair that trapesed through the white hallways, her methodic steps clicking along the tile.

“Nanako, dear!” his mother exclaimed pushing away from the table. Haru stiffed immediately, glaring at her until their eyes met. She returned it with the appropriate amount of venom he’d become so accustomed to.

“Hello, Mrs. Nanase,” she smiled sweetly, wrapping her thin arms around his mother.

“What are you doing here?”

Haru looked at Makoto, who gave him a sympathetic shrug before standing up.

“I’m heading out, Mrs. Nanase,” he said, waving once before facing Haru again, mouthing an inaudible “sorry.”

“Goodbye, Makoto, honey,” she chuckled. “Thank you for keeping Haruka in check today.”

“It was no problem.”

Haru fumed in silence, downing the last of the burning wine and setting the glass on the table a bit too harshly. He loathed her presence more than he loathed the shoes she was wearing – the 6-inch heels were completely unnecessary for a casual visit.

“Would it be alright if I talked with your husband about a few things?” she asked, running a hand through the golden waves, the strands ending delicately on top of her bare shoulders. “You’re welcome to join us. There were only a few questions concerning the wedding.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” his mother said. “He’s in his office on the phone right now, I believe. You wait right here with Haruka, and I’ll be back in a flash.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His mother hurried out, humming an unfamiliar tune in time with her footsteps, and Haru was left alone with Nanako, exchanging comforting looks of disgust in the deafening silence that washed over them.

“What wedding?” he spat, cutting sharply through the air.

“It’s not like I want it any more than you do,” she bit back.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m here to speak with your parents.”

They fell silent again, waiting impatiently for the rhythmic click of his mother’s heels to return and take her away from him.

He often thought about the wedding and its inevitability, occasionally wondering how long it would take for his parents to realize that Nanako made his life a living hell after only 5 minutes of being in her company.

He stood up slowly, making sure the glass on the table remained upright, and took a step toward her.

“Why don’t you tell your parents that the marriage is off?” she asked, her voice dropping in volume, barely a whisper between them. Haru thought she almost looked vulnerable, had he believed she held any other feelings than contempt.

“You know why I can’t,” he said flatly. “We’ve talked about this for a decade now, and we always get the same response.”

He bit his tongue as he heard the booming laughter of his father behind the soft _click_ of his mother’s heels.

“I’m going out,” Haru announced, breezing past Nanako, who stood with a forced smile on her face.

He ignored the goodbyes from his parents, walked out the French doors, and headed down the street he’d come far too acquainted with during his childhood. The cracks littering the sidewalks never changed, forming webs broken up by the occasional tuft of grass or small purple flowers.

He kicked a small rock, watching it skid to a stop in the middle of the road. The park was still a few blocks, and it was beginning to get humid – he could smell the foreboding rain, his mood dropping as the thin clouds became darker and thicker by the hour.

“Haru,” someone said from behind him. He smiled minimally at the sound of his voice, not bothering to glance over his shoulder.

“Rin,” he replied.

“What are you doing out?” he asked, taking a few steps toward him. “Shouldn’t you be busy learning etiquette, or whatever the hell you usually learn?”

“German.”

“What?”

“German,” he repeated, turning to face the maroon irises, darkened by the rain clouds. His stomach clenched, and he took a shallow breath before continuing. “That’s what I’m learning now. My etiquette lessons ended over 4 years ago.”

Rin rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond.

“Why are you out?” Haru asked.

“I’m meeting up with a friend,” he answered, a smile invading his features, eliciting a foreign tug in Haru’s chest. “Then your wandering ass distracted me.”

He nodded, looking over his shoulder at the pebble sitting where he had kicked it.

“My ass is pretty distracting,” he mumbled, turning back around.

“Haru!” Rin exclaimed. “Wait, you never answered why you were wandering around. It’s about to rain; you should get home.”

“Nanako,” he said simply, glancing back in time to see realization dawn on Rin’s face.

“Oh,” he replied, his expression contorting into one of distaste. “At least you only have to put up with her for a few more years tops.”

He stopped walking, his eyes glued on the small, gray rock. His stomach twisted in discomfort, feeling his body heat up with underlying rage.

Hearing it from Rin’s lips, making it sound so simple – it was humiliating. It was a world Rin was oblivious to; one that Haru only wished he could escape. If only it was only a few years, it would be much more bearable. It wasn’t, though. This was his life, and he had no choice.

“Right.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> h o l y m o l y  
> I am so sorry. I scrapped this chapter 3 and a half times, so I cannot apologize enough for it being a month overdue. My life has actually been busy which is weird because I don't have a life??????????????????????????????


	16. Chapter 16

Rin gasped, his hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead as he emerged from the water.

“Get out,” Haru demanded from under a large, black umbrella. Large drops of rain hit the surface of the water, goosebumps breaking out over Rin’s skin. He was freezing – the temperature had dropped significantly since yesterday – but he had to finish cleaning the sides of the pool.

“No,” Rin insisted, scrubbing the tile. There was a small mark that wasn’t coming off, and he’d be damned if Haru brought it up some day down the line and used it against him.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“Yeah, but I’ll also get paid,” he spat, his voice barely heard over the sound of the rain.

“You’ll get paid even if you take the day off, Rin,” he shouted as the wind picked up. “Get out of my damn pool.”

“It sounds like we’re back to square one,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shouted.

A few more minutes passed as the wind picked up, eliciting a racking shiver from Rin. He knew he should get out of the pool – he was extremely prone to illness – but he couldn’t comfortably leave the job unfinished. The weekend was fast approaching, and the estate had to look flawless. He almost smiled as he caught himself in such a determined mindset, when just weeks ago, he couldn’t have cared less about the unnoticeable mark on Haru’s pool.

“Fine,” Haru called. Rin could practically _feel_ the irritation in his voice. “When you get sick, though, don’t stick around and get me sick, too.”

“No worries, boss,” he smiled, waving as Haru turned toward the house, nearly losing his grip on the umbrella.

He lost track of how long he scrubbed the tile in the pouring rain, but eventually, Haru sauntered back out, his clothes gone and replaced with the familiar jammers. The locks of black hair were soaked by the time he reached the side of the pool, and Rin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the glaring blue irises reflecting the shattered surface of the water. Raindrops were streaking down his body, and goosebumps were evident on his skin as well.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rin shouted as Haru slipped into the pool a few feet away.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, sinking under the water.

Rin grabbed his arm, pulling him up and demanding his attention.

“Get back in the house,” he said. “You’re going to get sicker than me. Your immune system is probably shit, considering how often you lock yourself up inside.”

“I’ve already gotten all my shots,” he said, ripping his arm from Rin’s grasp.

“There’s not a shot for a damn cold, Haru,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You should have stayed inside.”

“Then you come inside, too.”

“I have to work.”

“Then you’re fired.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he sighed, pushing his hair back and groaning. “Fine, we can go in, but if you get sick, and your parents blame me, I’m strangling you.”

They got out of the pool, hurrying to the house, where the maid stood safely inside with two white towels.

“Do all of your towels have your name on them?” he muttered, drying himself off. He shivered, throwing the towel around his shoulders.

“No,” he answered. “Some have just an _N_.”

He glanced over at Haru in annoyance, their eyes meeting in the deafening silence, with only the methodic pattering of the thundering raindrops echoing off the windows. His cheeks were red from the cold, his hair a mess from the wind, and Rin was – for lack of a better word – entranced by the simplistic beauty of the boy.

It reminded him of their first meeting, when Rin had stood speechless with a glass of iced tea in his hand and an inevitable look of shock on his face.

He never thought about it before – he was never really forced to before now – but Haru was undoubtedly breathtaking.

“I –” they started simultaneously.

“Sorry,” Rin said, running a hand through his soaked hair.

“Go ahead,” Haru mumbled, doing the same.

“No, you say what you want first.”

“Rin, just say it.”

“Say what?” he asked.

“Whatever you were going to say,” he sighed.

“I don’t remember,” he said, glancing away. “Your turn.”

It was silent between them again as Rin’s attention flickered from one expensive decoration in the hallway to the next until he had nowhere else to look but back at Haru.

“I don’t remember either,” he deadpanned. “It mustn’t have been too important.”

Their eyes met again.

“Right,” Rin nodded. He took an indiscernible step forward, unable to shake away the feeling of curiosity he felt as he was pulled in by the striking blue irises. He watched Haru’s movements from the corner of his eye; the intangible twitch of his fingers clenching the towel around his neck, the shift from his left foot to his right, the slight expanding of his chest with every shallow breath he took capturing his attention, focused on the delicate, meditated blinks he took.

Haru had taken a step forward as well, and as they stood far too close to be considered casual, he could barely contain the urge to move the dripping lock of hair from his cheek, as if he was _looking_ for a reason to feel the flushed skin against his fingertips – until, however, Seijuro’s face flashed in his mind.

“Shit,” he hissed, pressing his hands to his temples as he stepped back, squeezing his eyes closed. He froze after a second, realizing Haru would probably be expecting an explanation, though he wouldn’t ask for one. “Sorry, there’s something in my eye.”

He didn’t answer; he simply flipped the hair from his face, throwing the towel over it and drying it.

“Haru, wait,” he called as the boy walked toward the staircases.

“Oh, boys!” a familiar voice echoed throughout the house. “I’m glad you finally came in. You’re going to get sick. Rin, do you need something to wear? I don’t want you going back out in that weather to get your clothes.”

“It’s no problem,” he said quickly, keeping his attention mainly on Haru’s retreating figure. “I can grab them really quickly.”

“Nonsense,” she chuckled. “Haruka, lend him something until the rain lets up.”

“Yes, Mother,” he answered, not pausing his footsteps.

Rin’s stomach clenched with something that felt like guilt. He wasn’t entirely sure why, though. He hadn’t done anything, yet he felt responsible for Haru’s sudden shift in mood.

“Are you coming, Matsuoka?” he said flatly, his voice coming from the top of the stairs.

“Oh,” he said, following him up the stairs, “Yeah, thanks.”

He threw the door open and dropped the towel instantly, nearly tripping Rin.

“Do you want sweatpants or pajama pants?” he asked dryly, turning to face him.

“You own sweatpants?”

He didn’t answer.

“Sweatpants, preferably, please,” he replied.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, tossing a pair of dark gray pants and a plain black t-shirt at him.

“Not particularly,” he shrugged. “I’ll be right back.”

“Change in here,” he mumbled, pushing past Rin and exiting the room. “Just open the door when you’re done.”

The door clicked close and he stood motionlessly, staring at the door. There was a long, zippered bag hanging on it, a swirly _AA_ on the front, and if Rin was curious enough, he would have looked to see what it was. However, Haru’s mood (or typical lack thereof) was generally distracting – that much he knew – but now, he somehow felt as though he was responsible for making it better. He wasn’t sure he knew how, nor did he understand why it all of a sudden came down to _him_ making _Haru_ happy. The kid rarely showed any emotion other than his typical, pissed off attitude anyway.

For a time, Rin was convinced the only thing he felt was irritation.

Now, though, he was intrigued by the series of emotions he could see flashing so obviously in Haru’s eyes.

He peeled the wet pants from his body and slipped into what Haru gave to him, opening the door like he had asked.

There was no sound throughout the house for some time, and Rin stood uncomfortably in the room. Eventually, he sat down on the bed, the satin sheets feeling like water underneath his fingertips.

“You’re free to go home anytime you’d like,” Haru said, appearing at the door dressed in jeans and striped sweater. “I’ve notified my chauffer.”

Rin stared at Haru’s sweater, forcing himself not to laugh. It took him a few seconds to register that he had spoken.

“Okay, yeah, thanks,” he said with a suppressed smile.

“Why are you laughing?” he demanded.

“I’m not.”

“You want to.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to piss you off even more,” he sighed, leaning back on his hands.

“Whatever you’re laughing about is going to piss me off?”

“Who knows?” he shrugged, throwing his hands up. “You’re confusing as shit, Haru, you know that?”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m not,” he said, crossing his arms. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because your sweater looks like something from the 60s!” he exclaimed. Haru stood in front of him with a blank expression, looking straight at him, then down at the sweater.

“I like the pattern.”

“My grandmother could knit a more fashionable sweater.”

“I could get you a matching one,” he said, uncrossing his arms.

“Haru, it’s ugly,” he chuckled.

“Would you like it better in green?”

“I wouldn’t like it regardless of what color it is.”

Haru rolled his eyes, and Rin started to laugh quietly. The air felt lighter between them, their casual bickering returning to a comfortable level.

“That’s yours, by the way,” he said, gesturing to the black bag on the door.

“What is it?”

“A gift from my father,” he said simply, walking to the desk and making a stack of papers, placing them in a drawer. “Open it and see for yourself.”

“Why did your father get me something?” he asked, eyeing the mysterious bag.

“For the banquet.”

“Oh, shit,” he whispered. “It’s a tux, isn’t it?”

He shrugged, and Rin walked over to it. He hated suits. The last time he wore one was to a dance his third year of high school, when he and Sousuke were on the lookout for potential one-night stands. One second he was scoping out, the next, his pants were around his ankles and he was covered in punch.

“I don’t wear suits anymore,” he said.

“Dress code,” he mumbled.

“Your family has a fucking dress code for the party?”

“It’s implied,” he shrugged, turning back around to face Rin. “I don’t give a shit if you accept it or not. However, my father insisted you wear it this weekend. It’s a high quality suit, and we expect you to look as expensive as the suit itself.”

The underlying nerves made his stomach churn as he thought about the groups of people in social groups much higher than his own, but he couldn’t help but feel a certain level of pride knowing that he was going to be there as well.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he smiled.

“I am, too.”

 

* * *

 

Haru sneezed, spilling a few drops of the steaming green tea on his pant leg and wincing at the slight burn.

“Gross,” whined Rin, coughing immediately after.

“You sound worse than I do,” he rasped, another sneeze threatening to escape. He shook his head.

“I was talking about your nasty tea,” he bit.

“You can’t even smell it,” he said. “You can’t smell anything because you didn’t get inside yesterday when I told you to.”

“And you’re sick because you’re too damn stubborn.”

Haru glared at him, sniffled once, then set his tea on the floor next to him. They were in his room, a humidifier between them as they sat facing each other. Rin had come to work that morning looking like a drowned rat with a sinus infection, and his mother refused to let him go back outside – she swore it was going to rain again.

He wasn’t sure he looked any better, however – he certainly _felt_ as bad as Rin looked – and ended up taking the day off along with him as his mother set the household employees to work, making sure there were plenty of tissues and tea (lemon water for Rin) readily available for “her boys.”

“Are you willing,” Rin began, interrupted by a cough, “To answer a few questions?”

“Not if it’s about my –” Sneeze, “Handwriting.”

He laughed.

“No, just about you, I guess.”

“Why?” he asked, blowing his nose and wincing at the burning from all the rubbing.

“I told you my life story a while ago,” he chuckled. “So, what’s yours?”

Haru stiffened, folding up the tissue and tossing it in the garbage bin to his right.

He’d never been asked something so directly from someone like Rin. He’d never had anyone express an interest in his life outside of the paparazzi’s basic “Who’s the next Mrs. Nanase?” or “Businesses to fall into the hands of the only son, or fall right through?”

He never thought about it.

“Yours was more exciting,” Haru said, glancing at Rin.

“If you mean disappointing and tragic and quite literally a series of unfortunate events, then yeah,” he chuckled, “Exciting.”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Ask Makoto. He knows better than I do.”

“He knows your life better than you know it yourself?”

He shrugged again. He didn’t see the point in this topic of conversation. It was one thing to learn about Rin; he was intriguing in a way Haru had never experienced before. He himself, however, had lived quite peacefully, albeit boringly.

“Okay, fine,” he sighed. “I’ll just ask questions. When is your birthday?”

“June 30th.”

“Favorite color?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s just a damn question,” he chuckled. “Jesus. How many languages can you speak?”

“Fluently?”

“Either, or.”

“4, fluently; 5, counting the one I’m learning now.”

“Bullshit,” he scoffed.

“English, French, Spanish – I’m still shaky on the Castilian dialect – and Japanese.”

“And you’re learning German?”

He nodded once, taking a sip of the tea. It was bland – he could tell, even though he couldn’t taste it. He’d have to ask for a bit more sugar next time.

“Why did you learn Japanese?”

“Makoto and I studied for a year over in Japan during high school. We had to learn it.”

He cringed at the immediate memory of the crowded airports, the uncomfortable seats, and the long flight. He hated traveling. So did Makoto, but he had gone the whole way with a smile on his face. That trip was a memory he’d learned to repress and hide, to avoid thinking about for so long that he nearly forgot what had happened. His stomach churned at the sudden remembrance of the events, his chest tightening as his lungs shut down.

“Excuse me,” he said quickly, pushing himself up and throwing the door open. He headed straight for the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face as he forced himself to think about something else – Rin, for instance, who sauntered to the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“Haru?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, towel-drying his face and taking a deep breath.

“Just felt nauseous,” he mumbled.

“The tea is probably making you even sicker.”

“You’re better at doing that than the tea is,” he deadpanned, tossing the towel in the basket by the door and brushing past Rin.

“This could have all been avoided if you had just left my ass outside,” he said between coughs.

Haru rolled his eyes, pushing his door open and returning to his seat on his side of the humidifier.

They sat without speaking for a bit longer, letting the humidifier’s hums fill the silence. Their eyes remained on each other’s features, dancing from cheekbone to jawline, simply and wordlessly observing. Haru noticed that he quite liked the sharp angles of Rin’s face, and wondered what the flushed skin felt like underneath his fingertips. He couldn’t imagine it.

“Take a picture,” he sniffed with a smirk. “It’ll last longer.”

“You’re here almost every day,” he said flatly. “I don’t need a picture when I just look out my window.”

“You’re a smart-ass when you’re sick.”

“I’m a smart-ass all the time,” he mumbled, taking a sip of the cooling tea and cringing at the lukewarm temperature.

“You have a poi –”

“Haruka, dear!” his mother called up the stairs. He could tell she was about to start ascending the stairs, but was just as hesitant as she was this morning – she hated being around sick people. “Makoto and Sousuke are coming over. Is that alright with you boys?”

He blew on his tea and glanced at Rin to gauge his reaction. He had looked at Haru in the same fashion.

“I don’t care if they get sick, too,” he grinned. “I’m not taking care of their sick asses.”

“Yes, Mother,” he called, his chest burning with an impending cough.

Rin took a sip of his honey lemon water and sighed.

“Do you think they’re going to get together?”

He shrugged.

“Makoto bought him a suit.”

“What?”

Haru nodded, taking a sip.

“Why?”

“Because he wanted Sousuke to have a tailored suit,” he said. “Speaking of, you should probably get that suit looked at to make sure it fits you properly.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the transparent green liquid in his cup.

He didn’t see the appeal of suits; they were uncomfortable and made his forearms sweat and stick to his dress shirt. He’d gotten out of wearing one the past few years, but he had a feeling his parents weren’t going to allow it this year, it being his supposed “wedding year.”

His stomach churned at the echo of his mother’s voice, asking repeatedly for a date, her expectant expression of underlying irritation engrained on the backs of his eyelids. “We wanted to announce it at the party,” she had said. “Just give me an idea. Winter? Spring?”

“It’s a nice suit,” he shrugged, sniffling. “I just hate suits.”

“Me, too.”

After a few minutes and a visit from the maid with a fresh serving of hot drinks, they heard the front door open and close mixed with a couple of chuckles resonating on the walls downstairs.

“This one is Haru’s room,” he heard Makoto say. “Haru? Are you in here?”

“Yeah,” Rin called. “We’re here.”

“Are you decent?” Sousuke called.

“Fuck off,” he snapped. Haru smiled into his cup, wondering if that’s how he and Rin sounded when they bickered.

The door opened, and Makoto instantly cringed at the sight of them, covering it with a nervous chuckle.

“You both really are sick,” he said, taking a step behind Sousuke.

They sniffled simultaneously.

“Haru, I told you to stop swimming in the cold,” he sighed, remaining behind Sousuke.

“That’s what I said!” Rin yelled, gesturing toward Haru. “He doesn’t listen for shit.”

“I know,” Makoto said, rubbing his temples. They both took a few steps in, shutting the door behind them quietly. “Do you guys need anything?”

“Stop being a mom, Makoto,” Sousuke said, elbowing him lightly. “You heard Mrs. Nanase yelling at the staff to make sure they’re okay.”

“If you’re just here to flirt with Makoto, take it outside,” Rin bit, blowing on the steaming liquid he held up to his lips.

“I’m sure you’re here for a different reason other than Nanase,” Sousuke said, his tone seeping sarcasm.

“I’m sick, you dumbass.”

“You could’ve stayed home and been sick there.”

“Okay, hey,” Makoto chuckled. “Let’s not make their headaches even worse.”

“We brought soup,” Sousuke said, holding out the small white pot.

“Did you burn it this time?” Rin smirked, coughing immediately after.

“For crying out loud,” Sousuke sighed. “No, Makoto made it. He didn’t let me touch it.”

Haru straightened up at that; he loved Makoto’s soup, and he wished his nose wasn’t so stuffy so that he could taste it.

“We’re just dropping it off,” he smiled, taking the pot from Sousuke and setting on the ground near Haru and Rin.

He noticed Makoto was holding his breath, and he rolled his eyes. He never understood why Makoto was so paranoid about getting sick. Even just a cold would freak him out.

“Sorry to interrupt your date,” Rin smiled sarcastically.

“It’s not a problem,” Sousuke bit.

Haru grinned into his cup at their exchange, wincing as the liquid burned his tongue.

“I’ll see you later, okay, Haru?” Makoto said, grabbing Sousuke by his forearm and tugging them back toward the door. “We hope you feel better. You, too, Rin.”

They waved and shut the door, leaving Rin and Haru in the comfortable layer of silence once again as the soft _tap_ of the other boys’ shoes grew distant.

The sky was dark again, full of the portending rain his mother had predicted, and the dark gray clouds casted a similar gray light through the open curtains. He never closed them; he never felt the need to. He liked the light from the sunrise, and loved to watch the blues mix with the pinks as it set on the opposite side of the house.

“I should probably,” Rin began, interrupted by a yawn, “Go back home soon.”

Haru nodded, watching a miniscule piece of a leaf from the tea bag float around.

“I have to get those sweatpants back to you, too. Don’t let me forget.”

“Keep them. I don’t wear them,” he said, dipping his finger in the tea to pick it out.

“You’re wearing sweatpants right now.”

“So?”

“Nevermind,” he sighed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail. “Shit, I forgot a hairband.”

“My mother probably has one. Ask the next worker who comes up.”

“No, it’s not important,” he said through another yawn.

“Go to sleep,” Haru deadpanned. “Your yawns are giving me a headache.”

“You just took Aspirin. You can’t be getting a headache already.”

“You just took twice as much cold medicine than you needed. Go to sleep.”

“You took some, too,” he snapped. “You go to sleep.”

“Fine,” he bit, throwing the blanket around his shoulders and laying down on the pillows surrounding them.

“Fine,” he mumbled, already bundled up on the ground.

The hum of the humidifier was the only sound in the room, save their collective, shallow breaths, and it took Rin only a matter of seconds to change that.

“Thank you, Haru,” he mumbled, sleep already laced in his voice.

Haru’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of it.

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, his eyes growing heavy as he spoke, forcing them open to search for Rin’s.

“Yeah, you did,” he yawned. “You’re a pretty cool guy, you know? You’re kind of a pain in my ass, but you’re pretty great.”

Haru didn’t respond, and Rin didn’t continue; he finally glanced over, locking eyes with Haru as they fell into the peaceful taciturnity once again.

He quite liked the stillness he felt with Rin as their breaths slowly fell into sync with the other’s, and as the seconds wore on, he wished he could be fearless enough to reach out and brush against the pale rainbow of light dusting his cheek, removing the fine, deep red hairs that settled there.

“Always staring,” he whispered, sighing in a way that resembled a tired, breathy chuckle.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, letting his eyes close for a second too long. He left them shut, and before he could hear Rin’s response, fell asleep.

His head felt heavy as he woke up, a cold sweat having broken out over his skin, making it suffocatingly uncomfortable. The room was dark now, the clouds a deep, rich gray, streaks of rain making them blurry.

It took him awhile, but as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he registered Rin’s presence, much closer than he had been when they had fallen asleep. He rolled over and turned his head, his nose immediately brushing against Rin’s cheek. His breath stopped as he felt Rin’s arm tighten underneath his head.

“Oh, Haruka,” a female voice said from the door as it opened soundlessly, “I’m sorry to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he said, sitting up quickly. From his peripheral vision, he watched Rin stretch out, removing his arm and rolling away from Haru. He continued to watch his expressions change in his sleep as the woman continued.

“Mrs. Nanase is leaving for a couple of days on an emergency call, but wishes you and Rin the best health.”

He nodded, finally glancing away as he watched the maroon irises begin to open.

“What’s going on?” he asked groggily, sitting up and running a hand over his eyes, then dragging it through his hair.

“I’ll be up in a bit with your medicine, okay?” she said, closing the door as she left.

“What am I doing on your side? Wait, you’re on mine,” he said, glancing around.

“You’re on mine.”

“No, you’re on mine.”

They paused, looking at the other side of the humidifier, where Haru’s cup of tea lied on its side.

“Why are you on my side?” he asked, a small smirk forming.

He shrugged, pushing himself up. He didn’t know why he was sleeping next to Rin, nor did he care. What intrigued him the most was that he didn’t mind it. He’d only ever slept near Makoto, and even then, he didn’t sleep well.

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could have just asked,” Rin chuckled.

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Linda Belcher voice*  
> Alright, finally, an update.
> 
> It's so HARD to keep their interactions in accordance to the plot because I want them to KISS ALREADY.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how mad would you guys be if Chapter 18 was just like
> 
> "The End  
> \- because I'm losing sight of it"
> 
> edit: I'M NOT ACTUALLY GONNA DO IT I PROMISE. But I am beginning to lose sight of it. Not interest or motivation, so chapters will probably take longer. It's not going to end any time soon, trust me

Rin stood up and tossed the gardening gloves to the side, brushed the soggy dirt from his shins, and stretched. The orange sky casted long shadows, and it didn’t take him long to notice a second elongated black figure approaching his own.

“Are you done?” Haru asked, a fresh bottle of water in one hand and his cell in the other. His eyes were locked on the screen, his eyebrows knit together in concentration.

“You tell me, boss,” he sighed, grabbing the water and cracking it open. It was a gorgeous day out today, the only traces of the past thunderstorms being the damp, spongy ground and slightly heavier air.

Haru glanced up, took one look at the weeded garden, then looked to Rin expressionlessly.

“Are my onions still in the ground?”

“Is your handwriting still shitty?”

He rolled his eyes, and Rin took a long drink of water before capping it and brushing away a few loose strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m heading out,” he said, brushing past Haru and heading toward the front gate.

“Hold on, Rin,” he mumbled, shoving his phone into his front pocket. “Do you mind staying for a little bit? My mother wanted you to taste some different wines and get your opinion on them.”

“She wanted me to?”

“Well, she actually wanted Makoto, but he’s downtown with Sousuke.”

“Of course,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. He headed toward the house, Haru quickly falling into step beside him. “Well, I’m always down for some wine. Let’s go.”

He smiled, throwing his arm around Haru’s shoulders and laughing when he was brushed off.

“Shower first, please,” he said, holding up a hand and stopping in his tracks.

“The one who was sneezing on me for two days straight is worrying about a little sweat?” he scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

Haru led the way to a dank, unfamiliar room in the back-most part of the house that smelled like wine and dirt, where a long table was set up and four strangers stood speaking to Mrs. Nanase in a language Rin didn’t understand.

“Rin!” she exclaimed as they walked towards them. “Haruka, I’m glad you got back quickly.” She paused, leaning in and whispering, “I don’t understand a word those men are saying.”

“I’m still learning German, Mother,” he said. “I won’t be able to help much either.”

“Just tell them we’re ready to taste them,” she said, brushing a lock of silky black hair out of her face.

Rin couldn’t help but think about how similar Haru looked to his mother, though he’d never say it to his face, and when she smiled, he couldn’t help but think of how delicate Haru’s smile must be as well.

Haru’s voice spoke strange words with even stranger sounds in the background, and it took everything in Rin not to laugh at him, pausing and drawing out the words coming from his lips that typically only spilled soft words and even tones.

Eventually, the table was filled with glasses in front of over a dozen bottles of wine, and the German men behind the table poured a bit of each into the cups.

“Don’t swallow it,” Haru said to Rin.

“That’s one I _haven’t_ heard,” he said under his breath.

“Shut up,” he hissed. “Spit _the wine_ into the bowl next to each bottle after tasting it.”

Rin laughed, and watched as his cheeks reverted back to the light alabaster it usually was as the blush faded.

It took a few hours, and a few “accidental” swallows of the best wines, but eventually, Mrs. Nanase was set on three different selections.

“Rin, would you like a ride home?” she asked. “It’s getting late.”

“No, ma’am,” he smiled. “I’ll be fine walking.”

She eyed him curiously, then chuckled.

“Oh, you remind me so much of my husband when he was your age. I’ll notify the chauffer. Haruka, escort him to the cars, and go along with him.”

“Yes, Mother,” Haru said, ducking his head and leading Rin back outside.

“Looks like I’m taking you home,” Rin chuckled, throwing his arm over Haru’s shoulder, only to get it brushed off once again.

“You’ve been in my bed before,” he said flatly, rolling his eyes. “Those jokes don’t bother me.”

“Come on,” he groaned. “I’m just messing around. Would you smile once in a while?”

“No.”

Rin rolled his eyes, struggling to keep up with Haru’s quick strides as they headed to the garage.

They walked in silence, Rin every now and then glancing over when he felt Haru’s gaze on him, until they reached the long building.

“Wait here,” he said, holding up his hand to Rin’s chest. “I need to make sure he has the right car.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he watched Haru enter the garage.

 **Are you still coming?** it read.

“Shit,” Rin hissed.

 **Yeah, sorry, Sei.** he replied. **I got caught up after work. I’ll be there in just a bit.**

The second garage door opened, and a small, black car pulled out.

“Shotgun!” Rin yelled as Haru got out of the backseat.

“Not a chance in hell,” he said.

Rin grinned, jogging over to the car and sliding into the backseat, Haru in the other side.

 **It’s cool. I was late, too. Got caught up with a friend. See you soon?** Seijuro responded.

**Yeah.**

“Haru,” Rin whispered, leaning over the middle seat between them.

“Hm?” he hummed, his eyes remaining locked on the passing cars as they got into town.

“Can you ask him to drop me off at the diner on First instead of at my house?”

He glanced away from the window for a second, locked eyes with Rin, then looked back toward the window.

“Why?” he asked, his voice muffled by his hand partially covering his mouth.

“I completely forgot I made plans to meet up with a friend,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

Haru didn’t respond for a few seconds, and Rin’s stomach clenched. He felt the aura around Haru change from one of comfortable coolness to one of silent, suffocating irritation, and though he should have been familiar with the sudden shifts, he wasn’t, and it set him on edge.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaning forward to talk to the driver, “Do you mind dropping me off at the diner on First?

“Hot date?” he asked with a small smile.

He could feel Haru’s piercing gaze on the back of his head as he spoke, but he smiled politely at the man anyway.

“Something like that,” he grinned.

“As you wish, sir,” he replied.

The car came to a halt at a red light as Rin leaned back into the leather seat. The city was bright with street signs and headlights, but the sky was darkening by the minute, and as they pulled up the diner, alight with fluorescent lights, the first star was beginning to make itself visible.

“Make a wish,” Rin said, pointing to it through the windshield.

“Why?”

He looked over, catching Haru’s eyes with his own, and smiled.

“It’s a nursery rhyme my mom used to say when I was little. You’re supposed to wish on the first star you see.”

Haru looked away without another word, and the neon lights continued to pass them by. Soft, ambient sounds came from the speakers, making the door vibrate lightly. Rin leaned his head on it and sighed.

He didn’t know how to handle silence with Haru anymore. It was strange, being content without speaking, but simultaneously wishing he _would_ speak. He was stuck in a sort of limbo between wanting to get away from Haru and the cold stillness, and wanting to immerse himself in it.

“German, huh?” Rin said, getting his attention as icy blue irises flickered back to him.

“It’s shaky.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell,” he shrugged. “It’s impressive anyway.”

“Not really,” he mumbled, looking away again.

Rin sighed, smiling as he leaned a bit towards Haru.

“You know, guys who speak more than one language are automatically more attractive in my book, and you know 5.”

Haru visibly froze; his body tensed up, and not even his eyes shifted over to Rin.

“I only know 4,” he eventually said.

“For God’s sake, Haru.”

“What?” he asked, turning sharply to look him in the eyes.

It was Rin’s turn to freeze, and he all too quickly forgot the words that had just been settled on his tongue. It only took a minute glance down at Haru’s lips, and then he was weightless. He could have sworn Haru was moving toward him agonizingly slowly, but he didn’t have the time nor the interest to figure out if it was Haru or himself who was inching forward.

The car then came to a stop and the driver got out, and Rin nodded once to the boy so close to him with eyes reflecting the city lights.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Haru,” he said quietly, sliding back to his own seat.

“Wait,” he said, his hand gripping Rin’s forearm.

Rin’s skin prickled under his touch, just as it had the other day, as Haru laid with his arm draped over his stomach in a cold-medicine-induced sleep.

He didn’t say anything, his eyes iridescently dancing over his features illuminated by the same lights that inhabited the piercing blue irises.

The door next to Rin opened, and Haru’s fingers slowly released their grip on his wrist.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rin,” he said quietly, retracting his hand and leaving it clenched on his lap. “Have a good night.”

The half-smile that had been on Rin’s lips faded, his eyebrows coming together as he nodded.

“Right,” he replied, feeling his chest tighten as Haru looked back to his window. He threw a leg out of the car and carefully stepped out, uttering his thanks to the driver, and crossing the road, narrowly missing a car that sped past.

He glanced back once more, catching Haru’s eyes through the car window before the sleek black vehicle pulled away. His chest was still tight, his heartbeat still a bit too fast, but he couldn’t shake the image of Haru being so close like he typically would. He didn’t _want_ to. He knew he’d been getting far too close to kissing Haru lately, and he knew that if he _did_ follow through with the accidental almost-kisses, it wouldn’t be fair to Seijuro. He liked Seijuro – a lot, really – but he didn’t know where it was going. Rin knew what he wanted – at least, he thought so.

He brushed off the heaviness in his chest, smiling as he pushed open the door of the diner and instantly caught Seijuro’s flash of orange hair.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smirked, standing up and pressing his lips to Rin’s. “Why do you taste like expensive wine?”

“Why do you taste like cherry chapstick?”

He shrugged with a smile.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. Seijuro pushed a few strands of hair from Rin’s face and kissed him once more.

“I already got your coffee.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” he laughed, throwing himself into the booth across from Seijuro and taking a long drink of the scorching black liquid. “It’s the reason I was late.”

“You were drinking with the Nanases?” he asked, taking a sip of the diet soda that sat in front of him.

“No, I was _taste-testing_.” His tongue was burnt from the heat of the coffee, but he took another sip before deciding it needed more sugar.

“Look at you,” he said, “A professional wine connoisseur.”

“It’s not like my opinion mattered much either way,” he scoffed, setting the beige mug down and stirring it. “Haru was so damn adamant about which wines he wanted, which were _consequently_ the ones I disliked the most.”

His stomach clenched and his skin bristled as the name slipped so easily past his lips, and the shattered blue irises flashed in the back of his mind.

“You’re saying he did it on purpose?”

“I’m saying he’s weird,” he shrugged, adding a sugar packet to the coffee. “One second, he’s sleeping on me and telling me I’m pretty, and the next, he won’t even look at me without getting all bitchy. Damn, Sei, I’m telling you, if looks could kill, I would have been dead at _least_ a dozen times today.”

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know!” he hissed. “I did everything he wanted. I even had lunch with the bastard.”

“Was it good?”

“It wasn’t bad. The strawberry dessert was what made it great.” He took another sip of the coffee, much sweeter than it was before, and he smiled. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“It was alright,” he said, poking the ice cubes in his glass with the straw. “I hung out with Ai for a bit, then caught a movie with him and Chigusa. Momo made me bring him along.”

“Was it a good movie?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Not enough car chases.”

Rin rolled his eyes, a smile breaking out as he watched Seijuro’s honey irises glint under the fluorescent lights above them as a familiar, heavy silence enveloped them.

“Do you want to come over for a bit?”

Rin’s chest tightened, and he immediately brushed off the layer of guilt settling on his stomach as he smirked at the tone of Seijuro’s voice, lowered just enough for him to hear it.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

* * *

 

Haru stared up at the sky through his bedroom window, drawing circles and indefinite patterns into the silky sheets with his fingertips. The stars invaded the endless black sky, one by one, until the entirety of the expanse was littered with the miniscule white dots.

He could pick out some of the constellations Makoto had pointed out to him as a child – Delphinus, Cetus, and Eridanus were always his favorites – and he wondered if Rin knew any constellations. He watched as an airplane passed through his view of the sky, the small, red lights flashing methodically for just a few seconds before he lost sight of it.

It was well past the time he’d typically go to sleep, especially seeing as how he had a relatively important event occurring in under 16 hours, but he couldn’t seem to get ahold of his thoughts tonight as beautiful shades of familiar maroon locks and the delicate taste of wine filled his head.

He thought of Rin quite often nowadays, he’d noticed. More than once, he’d caught himself thinking of how smooth Rin’s lips would feel dragging across his own, or what it would be like to have his fingers tangled in the red hair as calloused hands delicately, desperately gripped his sides.

He tore his eyes from the stars, and took a breath. Bare skin slid against the smooth, silken sheets as he pushed himself away from the window and toward the head of the bed.

He dozed off soon thereafter, the sound of the air conditioner barely distracting him enough from the phantom feeling of hands making their way down his chest.

When the sun broke through the morning fog, pale yellow streaks painted the carpet and slept on his sheets as he stretched out, a small yawn cut short as he choked back an involuntary moan, his leg brushing against his hardened cock. He rolled his eyes, getting back into a comfortable position and waiting to doze off again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in such a state after regretfully falling asleep to the vivid images of Rin, but after a while, it got tiring, and he’d taken to sleeping it off rather than taking care of it himself.

Some time later, his mother’s voice jolted him from his sleep, telling him Makoto was here to help with last minute preparations.

“Wait there,” he called as he saw Makoto’s shadow approaching his door.

“Haru, did you just wake up?” he asked. Haru could hear the smile in his voice and clenched his jaw at the cheerfulness of it.

“For the second time this morning,” he replied, pushing himself off the sheets and slipping into clothes. “It’s open.”

The door swung out, and Makoto stepped through, a small smile on his face and a long, black, zippered bag in his hand.

“What’s first on the list?” he asked, hanging the bagged suit up on Haru’s door.

The hours passed, and eventually the dining hall was completely set up, a long table lining the open floor where the orchestra would soon be preparing. Haru cringed as the first member walked through the arch, toting a large black case. Last year, his mother had had a slight obsession with Bach, the year before was contemporary compositions, and he could only imagine the genre she’d decided on this year.

The overwhelming scent of the wine coincided with the sautéed chicken wafting in from the kitchen, giving the dining hall a tranquil setting.

“The only thing left is the bouncer,” Makoto mumbled, tapping his chin as he looked around. “Have you seen him?”

“He should be at the door already!” Haru’s mother said as she entered the hall. “Oh, good, you got the wine table finished. Go get ready now. The Hazukis are bound to be here any time.”

“Yes, Mother,” he said, his fists clenched as he led Makoto back through the house and up the stairs.

“I never understood why you hated these so much,” he sighed as they entered the bedroom. “They’re a lot of fun.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said simply. “I just don’t like them.”

He opened his closet and removed his suit from the hanger as Makoto took his own from the door and left.

If he was being honest, he had no one reason to hate the annual dinner parties. It was a few minor reasons such as having to wear a suit, seeing strangers in high positions in society he didn’t care to talk to – yet seemed to always have to – and he was forced to become one of them. He had no interest in becoming like the socialites that claimed they were too important to be spoken to. The frosting on the cake of reasons was Nanako, who was undoubtedly going to be late, just like every other year. That was the one thing Haru could count on – his future wife’s inability to do anything on time.

The rest of the Hazukis, he was genuinely okay with seeing, as long as the topic of the marriage was suppressed. However, it seemed to appear in conversation far more often as time wore on.

He finished getting ready earlier than he’d intended, but just as Makoto was giving him one last look-over, a tentative knock echoed through the house.

“There’s your girl,” Makoto smiled lightly.

“That’s your boy,” Haru bit back, his stomach churning at the mention of Nanako.

“He’s not mine,” he chuckled. “Besides, I told him I’d pick him up before it started.”

Haru rolled his eyes as they heard the door open.

“Oh, Toraichi!” his mother exclaimed. “Come in! You’re early, but please –”

“That’s quite alright, Mrs. Nanase,” the man at the door chuckled. “I just dropped by a bit early to talk to someone.”

“Who would that be?”

“Your son.”

His mother fell silent, and Haru’s eyes locked with Makoto’s, who currently wore an expression of unease.

“Haruka?” she said quietly.

“Yes, please,” he answered. “I have an urgent question for him.”

“I suppose,” she said tentatively. “Haruka! Please come down here. You have a request for your company.”

He brushed Makoto’s hand away as it settled on his shoulder, throwing the door open and descending the staircase. He came face to face with a tall, lanky man, with eyes that glistened like rubies underneath the lights.

The soft click of mother’s heels faded as she retreated.

“Haruka, it’s –”

“Haru is fine.”

The man paused, his face frozen in shock that he had been interrupted so soon in the conversation, but nodded once.

“Right,” he said under his breath. “Haru. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He paused, presumably expecting a response, which Haru didn’t offer.

“Your father speaks very highly of you.”

Haru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his father spoke highly of him. He had the image of perfect family to uphold, after all.

The man coughed into his fist and rubbed the back of his neck. Haru’s eyes narrowed as he watched the action. He’d seen that before. This man was familiar, but he knew he’d never seen him before.

“Anyway, I have a request to make of you.”

“Why should I?”

He paused, then stretched out his hand.

“Toraichi Matsuoka,” he said. “I didn’t properly introduce myself.”

Haru’s breath caught at the man’s surname, his eyes going wide as he immediately saw Rin’s features hidden in the man’s.

“Matsuoka,” he mumbled.

“That’s correct,” he nodded. “I have a request.”

Haru took a small step back.

“Fire Rin.”

❇❇❇❇❇

The house buzzed and the walls vibrated with the sound of footsteps and classical music. Haru sighed once more as he checked the time. Nanako was now nearly an hour late, and he was seated in his room, waiting to be summoned. He was bored out of his mind – he even tried to go over some of his German lesson, but it proved to be useless, as he didn’t know what he was reading – but would sooner stay up here all night than go down there and “join the party.”

He wondered if Rin was here yet, but tried not to think too hard about the plus one Nagisa had mentioned the other day. It made him upset to think about someone else – other than Sousuke – having Rin’s attention. He hadn’t noticed before a few days ago how much he thought about Rin. His personal chef mentioned him a few times as well, every time Haru asked him to make the canapé. He’d say, “Is it for that boy you always have over?” and Haru would have to deny it.

“All of these are for you?” he had asked.

Haru nodded.

“You’ll get sick,” he had chuckled. “Maybe you should offer some to the boy then, so that you don’t eat too many.”

The door downstairs opened and closed once again, and Haru prepared to be called down to escort Nanako. It still wasn’t the Hazukis.

He sighed, pushing himself off the bed and pacing. He wondered if it was possible to sneak down to grab a drink or two, to try and keep the bitterness out of his voice when Nanako _did_ decide to show up. He assumed he had time, but it wasn’t worth the risk of being seen.

There was a knock on his door as he sat back on his bed.

“Haruka,” his mother said quietly, “Please, come down. Everyone is having such a great time. The band is playing beautifully, the first table of wine is already gone and replaced with champagne, and even the flowers in the back garden bloomed just in time.”

“If Nanako isn’t there, I have no social responsibility to be there either,” he called. His door creaked open.

“Haruka Nanase,” his mother said sternly. “Everything you say and do is a social responsibility. Hosting this party is your social responsibility. Marrying Nanako is your social responsibility. Throwing away your chances for a perfect future because of laziness and your lack of motivation is _not_ your social responsibility. It’s the _lack of_ responsibility, and I will not stand for it. You will be down in the hall within half an hour, with or without your bride.”

“What if I don’t want a perfect future?” he snapped.

His mother raised her eyebrows.

“You do.”

She left without another word, leaving Haru in underlying seething rage. He knew what his mother said was inevitable; he was going to continue hosting these parties as long as he was a Nanase, he was going to marry Nanako, and he was going to take over his father’s companies and stocks. He would have the perfect future, whether he wanted it or not.

He ran his hands through his hair, tugging harshly and sighing. It wasn’t worth getting upset over. He had this coming for 20 years now, and no amount of arguing was going to change his parents’ minds.

It was going to happen – he knew that much – but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he genuinely wanted, and he had a feeling he knew what that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I am so sorry. I've had this chapter basically done for a few weeks, but then I couldn't finish it.
> 
> I got back together with my girlfriend who just moved back and graduation happened and I've been a MESS but that's okay because I finally finished this chapter.
> 
> okay gotta go change the rating thanks for reading bye


	18. Chapter 18

Rin glanced at his reflection in the mirror again, a thin layer of dust and grime obstructing his view of himself. He straightened the jacket of the tux, shifting all his weight to one foot and looking himself up and down. Shrugging the jacket off, he readjusted the silver tie and loosened it, keeping the jacket over his arm as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

He groaned to himself, yanking his hands out and flinging the jacket over his shoulder and turning away from the mirror. He hated tuxedos.

The pants were fine – it was the jacket that was giving him problems. It didn’t look right on him. When it was buttoned, he looked too formal, so he put his hair in a ponytail, which only made him look like a confused, middle-aged college professor going through a midlife crisis. When it was unbuttoned, he looked sloppy, so he took the ponytail out, but his hair didn’t fall correctly and he looked like a prepubescent teen in an oversized suit that didn’t know how to talk to his crush.

Seijuro was coming by to pick him up in a matter of minutes, and by the time he was as comfortable with his appearance as he would ever be, Rin still felt like something was missing.

He didn’t know what exactly the most stressful part of tonight was: the fact he was going with Seijuro, the fact he was wearing a tux that cost more than his whole being, or the fact that he would see Haru. He wasn’t necessarily nervous about seeing him; it was more anxious excitement to see him in a setting that wasn’t relaxed and informal.

He’d be seeing a whole new Haru tonight, and that’s what made him nervous.

“Ding, dong,” Seijuro said, popping his head into Rin’s room. He took one look at the redhead and whistled. “More like ‘ding, damn.’ You look great. Is that Amosu?”

Rin shrugged, still aggravated at his incomplete appearance, but smiled as Seijuro’s fingers twisted in his hair when their lips briefly met.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“No,” Rin sighed. “Something is missing.”

“What’s missing?” he asked, looking around with squinted eyes.

“Something,” he mumbled, glancing at his dresser. “Something from my outfit.”

“A watch,” Sei suggested.

“I don’t have one that would go.”

“Rin, it’s a gold watch,” he said, rolling his eyes and plucking it from its place on the dresser. “Just put it on. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I doubt it,” he said, slipping it on and taking another look in the mirror. Something still felt off, but he smiled anyway. “Okay, let’s go.”

They approached the Nanase Mansion with slight tentativeness in their step, Rin’s invitation gripped tightly in his hand as they met the bouncer at the doors.

“Matsuoka?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at Rin and glancing back at the closed door behind him.

“What?” Rin spat, “I’m not on the damn list? Haru gave me that himself.”

He looked closer at the invitation and nodded.

“I can tell,” he said under his breath. “I’ve been doing these parties for years for this family, and every time Haruka writes an invitation himself, you can tell. It’s even gotten worse.”

Rin smiled awkwardly at the bouncer as he took the invitation back, tugging Sei through the door and a swarm of people.

The marble dining hall was glistening, and the ceiling seemed a story too high. Windows covered the towering walls, the late evening’s setting sun making the room glow in calming orange and pink gradients. It was a room Rin had never seen before, the elegance of it stunning him more than any room he’d seen in the house yet. Seijuro had a lingering grasp on his arm, a fiery strand falling out of the slicked back style and casting a light shadow against his pale cheeks. His eyes were wide with fascination, their feet moving on their own accord, carrying them to the table that held crystal glasses of sparkling champagne, the gilded rim of each one reflecting the soft fluorescent lights lining the walls.

“This place is incredible,” Seijuro breathed, the delicate glass hanging dangerously between his index and middle finger.

“Oh, Rin, how lovely it is to see you!” a female voice said from behind him. “Who is this young man you have attached so dearly to your arm this beautiful evening?”

“Mrs. Nanase,” Rin smiled politely, “This is my friend, Seijuro Mikoshiba. Seijuro, this is Mrs. Nanase.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mrs. Nanase said, shaking his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, ma’am,” Seijuro replied softly.

“Where’s your husband?” Rin asked, glancing around the room, hoping to catch sight of Haru, and not particularly caring about Mr. Nanase at the moment.

“He’s speaking to one of his many friends at the moment,” she replied, squinting and looking around as well. “I believe he’s on the terrace, if you wish to speak with him.”

“No, ma’am, I was just asking.”

“Well, I hope you both enjoy your evening,” Mrs. Nanase said, her long, silver gown cascading down her slender body as she turned, catching the light with every movement. “Haruka _should_ be around here somewhere as well.”

Rin smiled softly, more to himself than to her retreating figure, and swirled the contents in the glass. He had thought he was being inconspicuous about being on the lookout for Haru, but as usual, the woman was more perceptive than he gave her credit for.

“Let’s find him,” Sei suggested, tugging him toward the back of the room, where a cluster of at least 15 people stood mingling, their conversations just as light and airy as the therapeutic harmonies of harps and cellos playing softly in the background. “He’s gotta be by these people, right? They look important.”

“No, he’s probably still upstairs,” Rin grinned. “I haven’t seen Nanako, or any of the Hazukis for that matter.”

“Why do they matter?”

“Nanako is Haru’s date tonight,” he replied, cringing slightly. “Haru isn’t supposed to show up without her leeching onto his arm – like you are to mine.”

“I can let go,” he said, rolling his eyes and loosening his grip.

“You know I’m kidding,” Rin said, downing his glass in seconds and setting it on a table as they passed it.

“I have to piss,” Sei whispered.

Rin laughed loudly, attracting the attention of a few older women who shot him piercing stares, quickly coughing into his fist to disguise it as much as he could. He led him down the familiar hallway, eventually finding the door to the bathroom.

“I’m going to head upstairs to see if Haru is there,” he said quickly. “I’ll be right down. If I take too long, just shout, and I’ll be down immediately.”

“Whatever,” he said, closing the door. “I’ll take a shit to give you more time.”

“Don’t you dare shit in this house,” Rin hissed through the door.

When he didn’t get a response – other than the muffled laugh – he bounded up the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door he’d visited multiple times.

“If they aren’t here, Mother, I’m not interested in coming down,” Haru snapped.

Rin could tell he was biting his tongue, and he wondered what had happened. He shrugged it off, smiling to himself.

“But Haruka, dear,” Rin called, “You’re missing out on social opportunities.”

“Rin?”

“No, it’s the fucking queen. Open the door.”

It flung open, and Haru stood with an irritated expression on his face that lightened just barely upon seeing Rin standing with a smile etched onto his features.

“You’re in a good mood,” Haru deadpanned, turning away and walking back to his bed. He laid back. Rin followed him in, hopping up on his desk, not even trying to avoid the stack of papers written in foreign languages.

“I didn’t have work, and I get free food,” he said, swinging his feet and letting them hit the desk methodically, all the while, his gaze locked on Haru’s. “Why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?”

Haru looked away, his eyes settling on the ceiling above him.

“Where’s your date?” Haru asked coldly.

“Where’s yours?” Rin laughed.

“I’m hoping she doesn’t show up at all,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows and looking back to Rin. “What about you?”

“I think he’s taking a shit,” he answered, suppressing a smile. “I told him to give me some time to talk to you.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Because I didn’t see your girlfriend,” he smiled lightly. He found it hard to uphold the smile when he thought about Nanako, whether it was out of spite because of how exasperating she was, or out of jealousy because of her ability to see Haru whenever she wanted and he couldn’t say no. Rin wished he had that kind of relationship with Haru, one that they could just casually hang out and talk, but they didn’t. Although Nanako didn’t take advantage of it, Rin still didn’t like it.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he bit, sitting up.

“I was kidding, Haru,” he said, jumping off the desk. “Relax.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to relax,” he said, standing up and crossing his arms.

Rin looked at him, his eyebrows knit together.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, running his hands through the jet black locks. “I can’t afford to relax tonight.”

“Haru, it’s a party. You’re supposed to relax.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied, taking a step toward the door Rin had left open.

Haru’s shoulder grazed Rin’s as he brushed by, his actions quick and fluid as the door clicked close.

The air got thick as he turned to face Haru, and Rin had a hard time keeping his breath even. Haru looked staggeringly ethereal, his irises a shade darker than he was used to seeing, and he could have sworn they looked hard as crystal. Every feature was perfectly coordinated at the same level of flawless iridescence, and he couldn’t look away, even as Haru glanced behind him.

“You look really great,” Rin said, taking advantage of the moment’s distraction to take in his appearance. He’d never seen Haru look so formal, and it he realized that he probably never would again. He frowned lightly.

“You’re missing a flower to put in your buttonhole,” he replied, whipping his attention back to Rin.

He felt his face scrunch up involuntarily.

“I knew I was missing something,” he mumbled. “A flower?”

He shrugged.

“Don’t they only do that in like, classic Oscar Wilde novels?”

He shrugged again, and Rin rolled his eyes.

“Haru, we need to talk,” a voice said from the doorway. It was Haru’s turn to roll his eyes as he looked at who it was. Makoto stood with a nervous expression as he glanced back and forth between Rin and Haru. “Oh, Rin, I didn’t expect you to be in here.”

“Where’s Sou?” Rin asked, leaning to look over Makoto’s shoulder.

“He should be –” Makoto began.

“Haru,” Sousuke said, out of breath as he came to stand next to Makoto. “We need to talk.”

“I already said that,” Makoto whispered to him.

“I thought you said I was going to start it,” he whispered back.

Rin looked to Haru, who stood expressionlessly.

“You _can_ start. I just told him we had to talk.”

“Yeah, but –”

“Would you get on with it?” Rin snapped.

Sousuke glanced at him then leaned to Makoto.

“I’ll just tell him while you talk to Haru,” he said. Makoto nodded, and Sousuke slung an arm around Rin’s shoulders as he led him out.

“What do you want?” Rin asked, brushing him off and giving him a curious look. His stomach clenched as he saw Sousuke’s expression falter.

“How are you and Seijuro doing?”

“Fine. He should be around here somewhere. Why?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar mop of fiery orange hair.

“Rin, I think you should dump him,” he said, suddenly reaching out and grabbing his bicep, forcing Rin to look at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Sou, we’ve been over this,” he said, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. “Trust me on this. I think we’ve got something good here.”

“You think _he’s_ the one for you?” he asked, gesticulating toward the direction Seijuro was standing. “Open your eyes, Rin. There’s someone who’s a hundred times better; someone just waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass.”

“Jesus, Sou, _you’re_ the one who set us up!” Rin exclaimed, grabbing onto the banister to keep himself from flailing his arms. “I’m not saying that he’s the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, but I like him enough that I’m willing to wait until he figures himself out.”

“You mean, choosing between you and your sister?” he said quietly.

Rin clenched his teeth.

“Look, man,” he sighed, “I don’t want a guy to get between us, especially a friend. Sei and I aren’t even together.”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he sighed, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, and don’t say I didn’t try and prevent it.”

Rin smiled minimally, then descended the rest of the stairs, heading straight for the familiar head of fiery locks.

He still felt Sousuke’s gaze locked on his back, and no matter how hard he tried to shake it, he couldn’t ignore the nagging words that were on repeat in the back of his mind.

_Someone just waiting._

He felt his smile waver as his hand knotted uncomfortably with Seijuro’s.

 

* * *

 

Haru raised an eyebrow as the door clicked close behind Rin and Sousuke.

He got strange vibes from the boy with teal eyes, and wondered what it was that was so urgent that he had to steal away Haru’s only desired company for the night.

“Haru,” Makoto began, twisting his fingers around each other in front of him. Haru could tell he was painfully nervous.

“What?”

When he didn’t continue, Haru sighed. He’d have to calm him down if he ever wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I met Rin’s father,” he said, sitting on his bed. Makoto would eventually wander over to sit next to him.

“When? What did he say?” he asked, still nervously locked in place.

“He told me to fire Rin.”

Makoto’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

He shrugged. He didn’t particularly care for what Toraichi had to say. He was someone Rin didn’t like, automatically putting him in a position of disdain for Haru.

“He doesn’t like that his friend – my father – is helping their family out, or something,” he said.

“But it’s Rin’s job,” he said, taking a seat next to Haru. “He’s working for the money he earns.”

“He got the job because he’s a Matsuoka, and my father was Toraichi’s best friend in high school. Toraichi apparently put 2 and 2 together, and he doesn’t like it. I just figured it out myself.”

“You’re not going to fire him, are you?” he asked quietly.

“My father wouldn’t let me, even if I intended to,” he shrugged, “And he supposedly already asked my father to do it, who declined the request.”

Makoto nodded silently, the sound hum of the string instruments vibrating the walls as they played a lengthy Beethoven piece.

“Rin came with a date,” Makoto began. Haru nodded. “And I think it’s important for you to know –”

“Haruka!” his mother exclaimed tapping twice on his door before pushing it open. “The Hazukis just arrived. Come, come. Don’t keep Nanako waiting.”

“Yes, Mother,” he said, pushing himself from the bed and gesturing for Makoto to follow. He did, his eyes wide and filled with worry. Haru gave him a curious look. He wished Nanako and the other Hazukis could have been just a few more seconds late. Makoto was going to say something about Rin – something important – and now, he wouldn’t know if he’d ever be able to know what it was.

He descended the stairs closely behind his mother with Makoto following closely behind him. Nanako stood at the entrance, the jade green dress clinging to her like a second skin. Her long, tanned legs were only accentuated further with the black heels. Haru scowled at her – which was appropriately returned – but couldn’t ignore the fact that, for at least tonight, she looked good enough to get away with murder.

“Nanako,” Haru said, taking hold of her hand and pressing his lips lightly to her skin.

“Haru,” she sneered, subtlety enough for it to go unnoticed by everyone but Haru. He almost smiled.

Dozens of eyes of the surrounding people locked on them, their conversations hushed all at once as the two made their way to the ballroom.

A few stopped them to ask about the wedding, or Nanako’s family, or their dreams for their futures. Nanako changed her answers every time.

“Are you lying about all your answers?”

“Not all of them,” she shrugged, the glistening smile never leaving her lips as she greeted another guest. “I’ve just got plenty of big plans, and none of them include you.”

Haru scanned the room, successfully tuning out the high-pitched banter of a nearby group of young women.

He found who he was looking for after a few minutes, the maroon locks weaving quickly through the crowd. He wondered if Rin was enjoying it more than he himself was, and soon, he found himself hoping Rin _was_ enjoying it.

“And of course, I wouldn’t be able to do it without Haruka’s support,” Nanako said, lightly gripping his arm, demanding his attention as she spoke to a short woman with long, chocolate curls.

“You two are going to have such lucky children,” she chuckled. “Smart and determined, just like their parents.”

Haru coughed as he choked on a sip of the champagne.

“Oh, honey, are you okay?” she asked, taking the crystal glass from his hands so that he didn’t drop it.

He cringed at her tone and straightened up, taking back the glass.

“Fine,” he said, sipping on the champagne.

The idea of Nanako’s offspring was enough for him to lose his appetite, let alone the idea of _their_ children. He cringed again at the thought.

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” Nanako smiled, touching the woman’s shoulder gently before leading Haru to the table of champagne, plucking one up for herself. “Would you get ahold of yourself? Jesus, sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who’s trying to make us look like we’re moderately happy together.”

“You’re just better at bullshitting everyone,” he mumbled, downing the rest of his glass and setting it gently on the table.

“Come on,” she said, finishing her own and setting it next to his. “We need to dance at least once. People will see, then we can probably split up for a few minutes.”

He rolled his eyes, but followed her to the center of the room as a new song started up. He could have sworn it was another Beethoven composition.

His hand settled uncomfortably on her side, his other clasping hers. He cringed as her other hand laid on his shoulder.

“Relax,” she grinned falsely, adding a chuckle. “Say something, and _smile_.”

“You’re the worst thing to happen to me,” he said, not able to force the smallest of a smile.

Her grin faltered, and his grew.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the song, and finally, they broke apart. Before they could get far, a relatively elderly man stopped them.

“Excuse me, Haruka,” he said. “Could I have a word with you and your fiancée?”

“If it’s about business, you can contact me in the morning,” Haru replied, urging Nanako forward.

“I’m the photographer who shot your mother and father’s engagement photos, and I would be honored to do yours and Miss Hazuki’s as well.”

“I said you can –”

“That would be lovely,” Nanako cut in. “Thank you, sir.”

He uttered a few parting words, then disappeared into the crowd.

“I really don’t want to marry you,” she hissed under her breath, the immaculate smile plastered on her lips as they maneuvered through people, hundreds of different voices filling the room. “I hope you know that.”

“I’ve known it since we were 7,” he said just as quietly. “There’s nothing I can do about it, though.”

She rolled her eyes, her lips curling up for a split second before the polite smile returned.

They were greeted by an innumerable amount of strangers, their eyes brightening upon seeing their arms interlocked as they left the room together.

They called it ‘destined,’ or ‘a perfect match,’ but with each comment, Haru’s stomach clenched harder, his head pounding behind his eyes, the bright fluorescent lights not helping much at all.

“I have to go,” he muttered, wrenching his arm from hers before she had even processed what he had said. She was left alone in the middle of the room, couples mingling around her, as Haru hurried through the house, his shoes tapping briskly along the tile as he climbed the stairs. He didn’t think he could handle another minute in that hall without snapping on the next stranger that mentioned the imminent Hazuki-Nanase wedding.

His bedroom door slammed behind him, the rhythmic pulse of the band vibrating the walls. He was alone.

He sighed, sitting on his bed and leaning his back against the wall. The coolness of it cut through his shirt and made him shiver, and he relaxed as the soft vibrations shook his skin.

“Ditching your own party?” a familiar, deep voice said from his doorway.

“It’s not mine,” he said flatly, his eyes locking with the wine red irises. “It’s my parents’.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “Rela – nevermind.”

There was a pause as he stepped in farther, pushing the door shut again with his toe. He uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Haru couldn’t take his eyes off of his figure. The suit fit him perfectly, as if it had been made and styled specifically for him, and unlike Nanako, he deserved every single pair of eyes to be locked on him. A rich, blue flower was in his buttonhole now, the intensity of it accentuated by the sleek black sheen of the suit.

Rin laughed, taking his hands out of his pockets and placing them on his waist.

“Take a picture,” he grinned, jutting out a hip. “This is the only time you’ll ever see me in a monkey suit.”

“You look better than Nanako,” he blurted.

He laughed again. Haru didn’t know what was so funny, but smiled anyway. He liked hearing Rin’s laugh. It was loud, but not obnoxiously so. It was calming, and much rather preferred it over Nanako’s shrill giggling that had been persisting faithfully in his left ear the past hour and a half.

“I think the raccoons out back that like to invade your trash on Tuesdays look better than Nanako, Haru,” he chuckled, “But I think that was a compliment, so thank you.”

Haru nodded, forcing himself to look elsewhere.

“Why did you run off?” Rin asked. “I think the band was just about to play _another_ Beethoven composition.”

“I’m sorry I made you miss the sixth consecutive one,” he bit, regrettably meeting the sparkling red eyes as they both fell silent again.

The heavy air returned, and Haru found it hard to continue speaking. The distance between them wasn’t far enough to be considered awkward, but not quite close enough to be comfortable. The silence stretched on as the tension grew, the soft music reverberating through the house. Haru clenched his fists at his sides as he brushed away the vivid images from the dreams he’d had the night before.

“Why did you follow me?” he forced out, finally breaking the tension.

“I lost my date in the flower garden to a bunch of middle-aged women talking about soup,” he smiled. “I came back in just in time to see you ditch Nanako, so I came to congratulate you.”

Haru felt a small smile break out on his lips, looking out his window at the luminescent gardens, bathed in early moonlight. His gaze landed on a pair of teenagers he didn’t recognize – and more than likely didn’t know in the first place. The girl’s hair glinted a deep red in the garden’s soft lighting, and the boy’s was vivid as fire. He watched them laugh before he pulled her close.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, turning his attention back to Rin.

“Yeah, I am, actually,” he nodded, taking a few steps closer. “Are you suffering as much as you thought you would be?”

“Even more so,” he answered, pushing himself off the bed as Rin wandered aimlessly around his room.

“Wonderful,” he smiled over his shoulder as he reached one of the dressers. He turned abruptly, then held out his hand. “Then dance with me.”

“No,” Haru said, turning his face towards the door. He felt his skin burn with the anticipation of being that close to Rin, to be able to see the stars in the wine red irises and feel the calloused hands of the boy he’d watched in his yard for a month now.

“I promise I’m a better dancer than Nanako,” he grinned, taking a step closer to Haru.

He looked at Rin, then at his outstretched hand. He felt stupid for even considering the idea. It was foolish to be ballroom dancing with his employee in his own bedroom while his fiancée was waiting – more than likely hoping he wouldn’t return – downstairs, and Rin’s own date somewhere in the crowd.

Yet, it was hard to say no to him as he stood so patiently, his hand waiting to be met by Haru’s.

“Just until this song is over,” he said, feeling his face burn as Rin laughed.

Rin’s hand instantly gripped onto Haru’s waist, leaving Haru to lay his on Rin’s shoulder. His fingers burned as they intertwined with the redhead’s, their faces mere inches apart as they moved mindlessly in each other’s syncopated rhythm, immediately falling into step with the other.

Haru couldn’t tear his eyes from the shattered irises that were so much closer than he’d ever seen them before. He could discern every single shade in the boy’s eyes by the end, from the subtle, nearly indistinguishable gold around the pupil, to the intense ruby in the center that seemed to go on forever, to the dark maroon at the edges. He could make out the shapes hidden in the eyes that reflected the moonlight, but whether they resembled rose petals or shattered garnet, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Haru,” he said quietly, the corners of his mouth turning up. “The song is over.”

He retracted his hands after a moment’s hesitation, and didn’t miss Rin’s hesitation either.

Rin stepped back and bit his top lip, looking at Haru closely.

“I have to do something really quick,” he mumbled. “If I don’t see you the rest of tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before Haru could ask what he was doing, Rin was gone, and he was left listening to the perpetual rhythm of the next Beethoven song.

He looked out the window and saw the two from before swaying together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter stressed me out
> 
> Everyone wave goodbye to Seijuro now
> 
> I'm sick of writing about him


	19. Chapter 19

Sousuke narrowed his eyes as Rin shook him off and descended the staircase, watching as his hand slipped effortlessly into Seijuro’s.

He sighed, running both hands through his hair and tugged, staring at the white tiled ceiling. He and Makoto had planned on ending this shit show with Seijuro once and for all tonight. They had seen the boy just seconds ago with his hands placed carefully on the hips of a familiar red headed female.

Their quickly devised plan to convince Rin to drop Seijuro wasn’t going to work – at least, not without a little bit of help from Haru. It was obvious that the two had some sort of dynamic with each other, some sort of affection, but both parties had yet to acknowledge it.

It was like a badly kept secret that everyone shared, but no one _knew_ that they all shared it.

Honestly, it was getting annoying, but Sousuke couldn’t deny that he was happy that there was someone Rin could genuinely be so open with other than Sousuke himself. Every time Rin would say Haru’s name, it was impossible to miss the twitch of the corner of his lips, or the delicate glances he took in order to avoid contact while talking about him. It all seemed so unlike Rin, to be so blatant about something he refused to entirely admit to himself.

It wasn’t like Rin to be unsure.

Sousuke tore his hands from his hair and descended the staircase, returning to the ballroom. He felt severely out of place, and the sideways glances were nearly impossible to miss, coming from the women with lengthy, glittering gowns and the men with perfectly coordinating suits and ties.

The front door opened and closed a few times, the echoed clicks muffled nearly completely as Sousuke stood along the wall, sipping from the gold-rimmed glasses.

“This place is something else, isn’t it?” a female voice said.

Sousuke paused with the crystal against his lip to look at the girl who had approached. He narrowed his eyes and sipped.

“Yeah,” he said. “Plenty of room to dance with people you aren’t supposed to be dancing with.”

Gou laughed, flicking a lock of curled hair from her face.

“I guess you could say that,” she said. There was a lull as she slowly leaned against the wall next to him. “I’m worried about Rin.”

He took another sip, scanning the room for Makoto. He should have been back by now, unless he couldn’t get out what he needed to say. He smiled to himself. Of course Makoto wouldn’t be able to outright say that he thought Haru should hook up with Rin. Sousuke himself wasn’t even able to say it to Rin.

“I think he should move back with me and my dad.”

Sousuke choked on his drink.

“I don’t think he’d, uh,” he chuckled, “I don’t think he’d agree. He’s gone this long without your deadbeat father.”

“He’s different now,” Gou insisted. “He really wants Rin to come back with him, but he knows he won’t move back on his own. He’s trying to get him to quit, so that when he hears about a new job that pays even more, he’ll willingly move with us.”

“Gou, I get that you’re his long lost sister or some shit, but I’m basically his brother,” he said, lowering his voice and looking her in the eyes. They’d looked exactly like Rin’s, if she weren’t so much shorter and he wouldn’t have had to lean down to see them. “And I can tell you right now that _that_ isn’t happening. Not on my watch.”

She cringed.

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just like this stupid fantasy I have of Rin coming back. He and I –”

“Stay away from Rin,” he said, setting the glass harshly on the table. “And tell your father while you’re at it. He’s got something good here. Don’t fuck it up for him.”

“I told you there’s a better job offer where we live,” she muttered.

“I’m not talking about the job.”

He walked away, fists slightly clenched at his sides. His eyes met briefly with a pair of familiar blue eyes, darkened with irritation, evident on his every inch of his features. Makoto was behind him, making his way steadily through the crowd toward Sousuke with a painfully nervous expression on his face.

“How’d it go?” Sousuke asked, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

“I couldn’t tell him,” he groaned, nearly running his hands through his hair and barely restraining himself. He’d just gotten it done and swore to himself that he wouldn’t mess it up. “Then his mom came in to tell him that Nanako was here.”

Sousuke cringed.

“I really don’t want to meet her,” he said loudly.

He leaned over to speak to Sousuke, a sad smile growing on his features. “She used to be really cool, you know.”

“I wouldn’t have known if you didn’t tell me,” he said as Makoto moved away.

“What was that?” he asked, leaning forward again. He looked like a bobble-head, moving back forth as quickly as he was, and Sousuke couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

It was silent for a few seconds as Sousuke looked to Makoto, whose gaze was locked on the crowd, seemingly watching Haru’s figure move fluidly around the room.

“Do you want to step outside for a bit?” Makoto asked above the music, his eyes never leaving the mass of people weaving delicately in and out of each other.

When the soft green irises finally flickered over, it took Sousuke a few seconds to respond, finally giving a gentle nod.

“Yeah,” he nodded, offering Makoto his elbow with a grin.

He laughed, taking it, as Sousuke led them out to the gardens, the bushes of flowers not yet in bloom humming along to the sonnet going on inside.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell Haru,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sousuke shrugged, “Rin wouldn’t listen to me either. However, no more Rin and Haru talk. They’re not the main focus of tonight.”

“Technically, Haru actually is,” Makoto mumbled.

“Then let everyone else talk about him,” he laughed. “I want to talk to you about anything and everything else.”

They fell silent as they walked, the crowd thinning significantly the farther out they ventured, disappearing altogether as they stepped out the hedged-in garden.

“You look really good tonight,” Makoto said quietly as they approached a stone garden, a small bench in the center, quite some distance from the house. Sousuke had never seen this area of the estate before, it being nearly completely concealed by weeping willows’ long branches, dancing with the whispered breezes.

The hum of the orchestra could barely be heard from where they sat, and as they sat down, their fingers intertwined immediately.

“Thanks,” he replied, his stomach twisting into knots. He smiled, running his thumb along Makoto’s.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he said, watching Sousuke’s fingers as they tapped his hand in time to the airy chords coming from the house.

“I’m glad I came tonight, too,” he chuckled quietly.

Makoto paused, looking up at Sousuke. His tapping stalled when the glassy peridot irises met his.

“Sou?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Sousuke felt himself nod, heard his voice whisper “please,” and as his eyes slid closed, and Makoto’s lips grazed his, he knew instantly that _this_ was going to be the kiss that either tore him down one day, or built him up for the rest of his life.

His entire body was buzzing with every emotion and every sensation contained in the human form, Makoto’s fingers ghosting along his cheekbone, and gently twisting the locks of his hair on the back of his head.

He pulled away after a just a second, his eyelids opening slowly, his gaze meeting Sousuke’s immediately.

Sousuke felt frozen in place, the urge to close the distance between them and feel Makoto’s lips moving with his own again settling hotly in the pit of his stomach.

“Thank God you said yes,” Makoto laughed quietly. “That would have been really awkward had you said no.”

“Makoto, I really like you.”

His smile faltered for just a second, his mouth falling into a gentle ‘O’ before he grinned again, sighing in what sounded like shock.

Before he could speak again, Sousuke leaned in, his fingers holding Makoto’s chin as their lips met once again.

“I really _really_ like you,” Makoto mumbled into the kiss.

They smiled into it, breaking apart after a few minutes.

“Will you do me the incredible honor of agreeing to be my boyfriend?” Makoto asked, their fingers intertwining once again as his forehead rested against Sousuke’s.

He nodded, his heartbeat nearly drowning out the soft voice ringing in his eardrums.

“Great,” Sousuke sighed after a silent moment. “Now we just have to get Rin to open his fucking eyes.”

“Therein lies the _real_ challenge.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto could still feel his heart vibrating erratically in his chest as he slipped back into the crowd, Sousuke wandering off into a different corner of the room.

His lips were still burning with the feeling of kissing him, and though he tried to focus, his vision was blurred and his attention was elsewhere, resulting in accidental bumps and trips and a copious number of champagne stains on his dress shirt.

He heard Nanako’s voice coming from somewhere in the crowd nearby, jolting him out of his daze, and he quickly found her, an irritated pout etched onto her features.

“Hey,” he grinned. “You look gorgeous tonight, Nanako.”

“Thanks,” she replied, rolling her eyes, but offering a small smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He chuckled, offering her an arm. As she took it, he took a quick glance over the room.

“Where’s Haru?” he asked.

She scoffed.

“He ran off like the little bitch he is,” she bit. “Couldn’t handle the socialization, even when _I_ was the only one talking while he just stood there looking pretty and sipping his stupid French champagne.”

“It’s German, actually,” he said.

“I don’t care if it’s straight from Putin’s dining hall. It’s still gross.”

“He’s Russian.”

“I still don’t care.”

He laughed, picking up a glass before they wandered into the parlor, a few people mingling around, hushed conversations silenced by the orchestra.

Makoto took a seat on the sofa, Nanako falling onto it ungracefully, making him almost spill his drink.

“My bad,” she sighed, running her fingers through her blonde locks.

If he was being honest with himself – which he tried to do most of the time – he had to admit that he almost missed Nanako. They had been good friends for the most part as children, their playdates lasting days at a time. Even though Haru had always instigated some argument, Makoto never had a problem with her, and even kept up with her when she first left for school.

Something was different about her, though, and Makoto only assumed it had to do with the marriage that was to be taking place any day now – everyone was just waiting for Haru to say the word.

He wondered if Nanako truly did like Haru at some point, and only got so bitter towards him to protect herself, but ruled that out shortly afterwards as they grew older.

He honestly felt bad for her. Of course, he felt bad for Haru as well; neither of them were given the freedom to marry who they wanted to marry, and there was nothing they could do to avoid the impending unhappiness they’d have to endure until they _could_ do something about it.

“Makoto, do you ever –” she said, cutting herself off and pausing. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be – I don’t know – normal?”

He raised his eyebrows, taking another sip before answering.

“No,” he replied, watching as her fingers twisted around each other in her lap. “I think I’ve managed to live a pretty normal life. I mean, from what I understand about ‘normal,’ there are marital problems between parents – check – and sibling rivalry – check – and nothing ever goes right at family reunions because of that one crazy aunt that always ends up throwing potato salad at her sister – check.”

“My family reunions never go right, but not because of a potato salad-slinging aunt,” she mumbled, forcing away a small smile.

“Ah,” he grinned. “Maybe that’s just the Tachibanas then.”

She laughed then – a small, breathy chuckle – but it was still a laugh nonetheless.

“You’re different when you’re not around Haru, you know,” she said, her fingernails scraping along her thigh, long, red marks being made on her tanned skin. “I kind of miss you.”

He paused, momentarily stunned by the softer side of her he hadn’t seen in years. She had a point, though. He knew he acted differently around him, especially towards her.

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that ‘kind of’ or not,” he said, finishing his glass and laughing.

“Say you kind of miss me, too, or I’ll feel really stupid,” she said with a smile, leaning into her hands before running them through her hair.

“I kind of miss you, too, Nakano,” he said.

“Oh, God,” she laughed. “You haven’t called me that in over 10 years, but it _still_ pisses me off just as much.”

They fell silent again, a familiar aura enveloping them, one Makoto hadn’t felt since the 3 families were all together on their trip to Beijing when he, Nanako, and Haru were barely 15.

“Tell me about Japan,” she said, leaning back on the spotless white sofa and fixating her gaze on the ceiling.

“It was over a decade ago,” he said, unsure of what had brought on the sudden change of topic. He wasn’t sure why she’d want to hear about the time spent studying, and they didn’t do much sightseeing, so that left very little to be discussed.

“You still remember what it was like, though,” she replied.

“Well, yeah, of course.”

“Tell me.”

He paused, felt a smile appear on his lips, then leaned back, staring up at the ceiling as well.

“People,” he began, blinking slowly as the vivid images came flooding back. “There were so many people. Everywhere. From the time we landed at the Osaka airport by the time we left the airport, we must have seen – god – more than 3000 people just walking in and out of the doors. They were like ants.

“Then there were the lights. It was always so bright; no matter where you were, there were always lights on. In the city, it was the neon storefront signs and advertisements. In the more peaceful towns, it was the sky. Oh, _God_ , all the stars. You could read a book in the starlight on the roof of the dormitory we stayed in for the year.

“I think it was the same as any other city, but it was the fact that it _felt_ different, especially during the spring when the Cherry Blossom Festival was going on. It was like a dream that went on for weeks at a time. Lucid dreaming, maybe? Maybe like that.”

He paused, glancing over and meeting Nanako’s eyes. She wore a content smile, her hands settled comfortably on her lap and her legs bent underneath her, and for the first time in far too long, he was happy to spend some time with her.

“Leaving is always the worst part, especially leaving alone. Haru had already gone home early because of something going on at home, but I finished the year out and flew home alone. I’ve always hated flights, but I would endure another 18 hours on a plane if it meant returning to Japan.”

“Did you have a good time with Haru, or was he an unmotivated, immobile shit the whole time he was there?”

He laughed.

“He isn’t always like that,” he replied. “He was actually having a great time. He rarely let me sleep in most days, _always_ needing to go running in the mornings while the blossoms were still falling and the sky was still pink.”

She nodded, leaning her head back where it was.

“Haru was weird after returning from that trip,” she said quietly, her fingernails scratching against the leather cushion. “He was really weird. That’s when everything changed, you know. He got back, and then he changed into who he is now.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Nanako,” he said, tapping the glass lightly with his nail. “He’s always been a unique person.”

“Makoto, something happened to him on that trip. Don’t you remember when you, Haru, and I used to play in your yard because it was the only one with a treehouse, and how he actually used to smile? How long has it been since you’ve heard him laugh?”

He shrugged. He honestly didn’t know, but it wasn’t for the lack of attentiveness. He was more than likely in denial, blind to what he didn’t want to admit. His best friend was suffering in a way he didn’t understand and never would understand, no matter how – or even if – Haru tried explaining it.

He always knew something had been off about Haru the minute he saw him after his flight landed (that minute came a lot later than expected, seeing as how Haru wasn’t accepting visitors of any kind for at least 3 weeks after his early return home), but he never wanted to admit it. He tried for years to subconsciously pull him out of whatever slump he seemed to be in, but eventually, the dull, monotonous tone was uniform in their conversation.

“Sorry,” she sighed. “I’m getting all sentimental and shit from talking to you.”

“You’re right,” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I’ve always known something happened on that trip, but I’ve never had the nerve to ask him. He never said anything, so neither did I.”

She didn’t reply, and the vibrations of the orchestra stopped just long enough to indicate the end of the song before another one started up.

“I should probably find Haru or something,” she mumbled, standing up. “What good is the bride without her groom?”

“Plenty,” he replied, standing as well. “Maybe you won’t have to get married.”

She chuckled humorlessly before holding out her arms. Makoto wrapped his around her small frame as she leaned her face on his chest.

“Sorry if I’m getting makeup on your shirt.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “There’s already a dozen or so champagne stains.”

She released him, tugging her dress further down her thighs, and smiled.

“Thanks, Makoto,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“I guess so,” he replied, a sad smile growing on his features.

He watched her go, her attitude immediately changing into typical, social Nanako, her lips stretched into a fake grin, laughing and talking with strangers.

He needed to find Haru as well. There was still something they needed to talk about.

 

* * *

 

Haru eventually left his room, returning to the crowd. He might not like it, but he knew what was expected of him, and had the responsibility of upholding the reputation of the Nanases.

His arm soon linked with Nanako, their usual banter picking up where they left off. She seemed to be in a significantly better mood, but Haru shrugged it off, not particularly interested.

He saw Makoto dancing with Sousuke across the room, just as close as he had been with Rin just minutes ago. He smiled minimally as he watched them, grins on both of their faces as their bodies moved in time with each other.

A flash of red and a streak of orange distracted him for just a second, subconsciously processing Rin’s presence with his date, before turning his attention back to Nanako as she nudged him in the side.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied shortly.

She rolled her eyes.

“You can’t even pretend to have a good time, can you?” she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the music.

“Nothing is fun anymore,” he replied just as quietly. Her lips fell into a small frown, her gaze scanning the crowd.

“Looks like Makoto finally got himself a guy,” she smiled, gesturing toward the two swaying peacefully. “When are you going to get yourself one?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of the new wine that waiters carried around the room. He was sure there would be hundreds of deep red spills littering the ground, but he didn’t especially care, seeing as how it wasn’t his job to clean it.

She laughed as he froze, processing what she had said.

“I knew it,” she said.

“Knew what?” he bit.

“You and I are a bit more similar than I thought.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“That we probably have the same taste in guys,” she smirked, facing him and leaning forward. “What a pretty new addition to the staff, don’t you agree?”

“No,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing as her hand came to rest on his arm.

She laughed, turning her head to the side and hitting him with her short curls.

“I have to find someone,” she said. “Bye, honey.”

He clenched his jaw, restraining himself from shattering the glass in his left hand, and quickly pushed through the crowd. He was ready to go back to his room, but a nearby conversation floated through the empty hallway during a lull in the song, reaching his ears and piquing his interest.

“I’m really sorry, Rin. I guess we just weren’t –” a male voice was saying, his voice bouncing off the walls before it was drowned out by the next chords.

He made his way down the hall, nearly missing the door that shut softly. It was the door to his father’s study, and the wood was far too thick to hear anything through. The curiosity was eating at his stomach. Who was with Rin? Why was he apologizing?

He sighed sharply, turning back around and heading straight for where he saw Makoto and Sousuke.

“Haru, wait,” Makoto called behind him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Is it about Rin?” he asked, leading him and Sousuke to the library down the hall. He threw himself into an armchair, leaving Makoto standing awkwardly with his date looking at him expectantly.

“Yes,” Sousuke answered. “He’s doing something really dumb, and I’ll take the blame because I set them up.”

“Rin came with a guy named Seijuro, but Seijuro has actually been spending his time dancing with Gou – you know, Rin’s little sister,” Makoto continued.

“He isn’t listening to me, and –”

“You should have known he wouldn’t,” Haru cut in. His skin was still tingling with irritation and curiosity, and he was twitchy with anticipation.

“And I should have known he wouldn’t,” Sousuke repeated, “But something tells me he’ll listen to you.”

“He’ll listen to me say what? That he’s making a mistake?” Haru bit. “The fucker doesn’t listen to me when I tell him how to pull weeds. What makes you think he’ll give a shit what I think about what he’s doing in his love life?”

“Haru, calm down,” Makoto said, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of him. “What happened?”

“Nanako,” he replied. “Doesn’t matter. What else do you need to tell me?”

“Just that you should tell Rin that he belongs with you, not the two-timing asshole,” Sousuke mumbled behind Makoto.

“If he’s happy with whoever the fuck his boyfriend is, I’m not going to interfere. It’s not my place,” he replied coldly. He combed his fingers harshly through his hair before freezing. _Wait._ “What color is his hair?”

“Orange,” Makoto said.

“Orange like you wouldn’t believe.”

“You might not need my help anyway,” Haru said. “They were talking, and it sounded like he was dumping Rin. Is that all?”

“You heard them talking?” Makoto asked.

He shrugged.

“I’m just assuming it was him,” he said quickly. He wanted to leave. The room was rapidly becoming too tight for him to be comfortable, his heart still buzzing erratically and deafeningly in his eardrums. He wanted the night to be over. “I need to go.”

“Haru, wait,” Sousuke said.

“What?” he hissed.

“Sou, not now,” Makoto mumbled, standing and slipping his arm through Sousuke’s. “Go on, Haru. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” Haru said, pushing past the both of them and heading for the stairwell.

He couldn’t think straight, and his head was pounding. Flashes of color and vivid images of nothing in particular buzzed in his mind. He needed one second alone – just one second – to get himself back together.

Instead of going upstairs, he found himself outside, his pant legs rolled up as he sat on the edge of the pool. He could barely hear the music from here, and the closest person was a hundred meters away.

He didn’t know what to think at this point – about the wedding, about taking over the business, about Rin. Nothing seemed to be important to him, and he felt like he was suffocating in the constant dullness that surrounded him.

He knew he despised Nanako and would rather die than spend the rest of his life with her, but felt like he’d given up trying to avoid it.

He knew he’d have to start signing his name in the places on contracts and stocks like his father does, but he couldn’t bring himself to even want to be successful in a field like accounting.

He knew he had feelings for Rin, but he couldn’t act on them.

Rin had turned out to be far more than the run-of-the-mill gardener. He had turned out being what Haru would almost consider a friend. He was a strange new light in his life, making every second, every word, every step he took shine.

He had never felt more sensitive, more vulnerable to anything in his life than he did when he was with Rin. He couldn’t help but feel everything when he was with him, and it was incredible.

He wanted that forever.

The cicadas buzzed in the nearby trees, grasshoppers humming along, and Haru leaned back onto the cement, his eyes slipping closed. Someone was coming, their feet dragging along the grass, and just as he was about to snap at them and demand what they were doing here, they plopped down next to him.

His eyes shot open, immediately meeting with his father’s.

“Hello, Haruka,” he smiled, crossing his legs underneath him and looking up.

Haru looked at him oddly for just a moment before his eyes closed again.

“Hello.”

“It’s beautiful out, isn’t it?” his father asked.

If Haru’s eyes had been open, he’d no doubt roll them, but in this case, he had no choice but to answer vocally.

“Absolutely.”

He didn’t continue for a while, the insects nearly drowning out the echoing hum of the orchestra.

“You know, your mother and I had an arranged marriage,” he said quietly, his voice dancing on the small ripples of the water. “We had never met before, but her parents sent her over here after she finished high school. The wedding was two weeks after.”

“Was it a wedding or a graduation party?” Haru mumbled.

His father laughed.

“It was a disaster; that’s what it was,” he answered. “Neither of us wanted to be there. She even tried pulling the fire alarm to stall long enough to find a getaway driver.” He paused. “The fire alarm had been broken for months, though.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Haru asked, his eyes opening and looking at his father.

“Because I know you don’t want to marry Nanako.”

His breath caught in his throat. There was no use hiding it now.

“How?”

“You don’t exactly hide it well,” his father chuckled.

Haru shrugged, feeling his dress shirt catch on the cement.

“Just keep this in mind, Haruka,” he said seriously. “You’re 21 years old.”

“I’m 20,” he said flatly.

“Minor detail,” he said. “Keep in mind that you’re an adult, and everything – _everything_ – on this estate became yours the day you turned 18. Remember that.”

“Is that supposed to be significant? We’re going to be bankrupt soon.”

“We’re going bankrupt?” his father asked.

“Isn’t that what you meant by what you said the other day?” Haru asked, pushing himself up to look at his father seriously.

“The other day?”

“You said we might not have the money for much longer,” Haru said, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh, that,” his father laughed. “I’m just nervous that you’ll let it all go when you decide not to take on the stocks and property and whatnot.”

Haru paused, then nodded, laying back down as his father pushed himself off the ground.

“And one more thing, Haruka,” he said. “Don’t you dare let that gardener boy quit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, long time no FUCKING UPDATE.  
> I'm sorry but I made it just a little bit longer and chapters 20 and 21 are already basically done, too, so expect regular updates again!  
> Thank you so much for being so patient while I figure my life out (it's been a shit storm) and I hope this chapter doesn't reflect too much of that shittiness lmao  
> ilyasm


	20. Chapter 20

Rin’s shoes scraped across the road, the toe of his right sneaker quickly being worn thin as he dragged it along behind him.

The rain painted the sidewalk an unsightly shade of taupe, individual raindrops effortlessly bleeding into each other to create the misconstrued shapes momentarily living on the concrete before the showers picked up, erasing all evidence of them ever existing in the first place. The sun had set hours ago, and the sky was consumed by thick, gray clouds.

Streetlights drenched their respective areas in a foggy yellow light. They were terrible quality, but the only source of light within a mile radius. Every light in every room in every house along the way was asleep, save the occasional dim desk lamp in a corner of a bedroom.

He shivered, his t-shirt clinging to him like a second skin, and stuck his hands deeper in his pockets.

He wasn’t sure where he was going anymore. It being his day off, he hadn’t seen a flash Haru all day, and without the constant distraction of work, Rin was left with nothing to do.

Gou had texted him, saying she was going to be staying in town while their father went back home. He figured it was only a matter of time before she moved here permanently, depending on her and Seijuro’s relationship.

He smiled minimally to himself as Seijuro’s name blazoned itself in his mind. It was strange, the ending of their relationship, whatever they were. It didn’t feel like a breakup to Rin – it wasn’t – but hints of it still shined through every now and then. The draining sensation was present, whether he lost a potential boyfriend or just a regular friend, and though it didn’t hurt him as much as he’d originally thought it would, it was a shock.

Somewhere along the way, he made a familiar left turn, letting the street pass under his feet quickly as he approached the park. The swings had long, oval puddles beneath them, cloudy with dirt, and the blacktop glistened as the rain came down on it in a soft mist.

He shivered again as he sat on the middle swing, and it was hard not to think of Haru as he pushed himself slowly with his right foot. The last time he was here was the night his father had contacted him, and Haru had approached him, questioning him about what was going on.

He smiled again at the ground, gripping the iron swing tighter as another shiver racked his body.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he took it out, shielding it from the light rain. Haru’s number lit the screen up.

**Are you home?** it read.

**No. I could be, though. Why?** Rin responded.

**No reason. Never mind.**

**Is something wrong?** he asked.

**No. Just wondering.** Haru replied.

Rin sighed, combing his dripping hair off his forehead with his fingers and stuffing his phone in his pocket. Stopping at Haru’s wouldn’t take too long. He was already halfway there anyway, and knowing he was home alone didn’t set well with Rin, especially when he was getting texts in the middle of the night asking if Rin was home.

He jumped off the swing, marginally missing the puddle – not that it mattered, seeing as how his socks were already soaked through – and started making his way toward the mansion.

The gate opened with the familiar creak, and Rin made his way around the house to the back door. Haru always left this door open, whether it was intentional or not, and Rin pushed the door open, slipping his shoes off before stepping inside. The door led to a small room with nothing to show but a long, dark hallway and an abstract painting that reminded Rin of a child’s drawing. He stopped in the bathroom and grabbed a towel before heading up the stairs, freezing about 3 feet away from Haru’s door.

The slight smile he wore on his lips faded instantly as he heard soft moans coming from inside his room.

He was torn between wanting to leave – knowing that he should, pretending that he hadn’t heard anything, and made his way back down the stairs – and giving in to the urge to stay and get closer as Haru continued to moan.

“Shit,” Rin hissed, taking a silent step forward. His heart was thudding erratically in his chest, and every nerve in his body was on edge as his feet carried him even closer to the door.

Haru soon got louder, the hushed moans no longer being restrained, and from where Rin stood behind the door, he could hear Haru’s breaths coming in rapid gasps and broken moans, each one more ruined than the last.

“Oh, god,” Haru gasped, his words muffled by the door, but not nearly enough for his shouted words to be inaudible. “Rin! _Fuck_ , yes!”

Rin should have turned around the second he heard his name shoved amid a string of profanities, should have left upon hearing the desperate moans and shouts, but he didn’t.

His limbs were frozen in place, and through the ruined moans tearing from Haru’s lips behind the door, Rin could do nothing but picture the gorgeous black-haired boy, his flushed alabaster skin covered in a sheen of sweat, his hand running over his length, so hard he could feel himself throbbing, his hips jerking up on their own accord, fucking his own hand just meters away.

_Fuck_.

Rin heard a whispered moan slip past his own lips, a hand flying up to cover his mouth immediately. His stomach flipped, and he could feel himself getting harder as the moans continued, doing everything in his power to avoid touching himself as his name was littered throughout Haru’s moans.

“ _Rin_!” Haru shouted, a long, hushed groan following it before he fell silent.

Rin’s legs were shaking, and a rolling heat in the pit of his stomach kept him frozen in place until he heard movement resume in the bedroom in front of him.

He couldn’t face Haru when he had a raging boner, especially when it was because he heard Haru screaming his name desperately, begging him to fuck him harder, faster, rougher.

He twisted around, tearing back down the stairs and into the bathroom.

“Shit,” he whispered, splashing his face with water. “Shit.”

He pulled his phone out, shooting a quick text to the boy upstairs.

**I’m in your bathroom downstairs.**

He got a text back almost immediately.

**Why the hell are you in my house?**

**I’ll tell you when you get your ass down here.**

**You get your ass up here**. Haru replied.

**If you say so.**

Rin finished drying himself off as much as he could before tossing the damp towel in the hamper, catching a glimpse of the gold embroidered _Nanase_ in the corner and rolling his eyes.

His stomach was in knots, and he was sure he was still glaringly, obviously hard, doing his best to cover his crotch as he tapped on the door.

“Why the hell are you in my house?” he asked, flinging the door open and stepping back, waiting for Rin to enter.

He looked around quickly, seeing no evidence of Haru’s recent activities, not even a flush on his cheeks or a hair mildly out of place. His eyes narrowed slightly before he processed that Haru had spoken to him.

“You made it sound like something was kind of wrong,” he shrugged.

“Assuring you that nothing was wrong made you worry that something was wrong?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rin shrugged again, a smile growing on his face.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

A comfortable peace enveloped them as Rin wandered around Haru’s room, feeling the blue-eyed gaze following him.

“Where did your parents go?” Rin asked suddenly.

“They left for somewhere in South America, I think.”

“You’ve been here alone? All day?”

Haru shrugged.

“It’s nothing new.”

“You could have texted me,” Rin mumbled, picking up a small object on his dresser. He shook it, a muted clinking coming from inside of it. “What’s this?”

“My grandfather,” he answered. Rin dropped it immediately, a soft “ _shit_ ” leaving his lips as he let the mini urn roll on the dresser, hitting the bottles of cologne. “Today was your day off. I didn’t want to drag you back here.”

“Makoto was busy?” he asked, heading over to the window.

“He was with Sousuke all day,” Haru answered. He sat on the bed behind Rin, the blankets making a hushed _whoosh_ resound through the room.

His fingers spread out on the glass, a large moth outside following his fingers.

“Don’t touch the glass,” Haru said. “Your fingers are oily, and it’s bad for the window.”

“I knew they were together,” he replied, not removing his hand from the glass.

Haru stayed silent for a moment longer before mumbling a response.

“If they’re just now a couple, you owe me a cherry smoothie,” he said, standing up and joining Rin at the window, watching the moth silently hit the window, desperate to try and reach the dim lamp sitting on the desk.

“Bullshit.”

“The bet was that if they were a couple back then, you got the smoothie, but if they weren’t _yet_ , I got it. You owe me a smoothie.”

“If you want to go on a date so badly, just say it,” Rin muttered, rolling his eyes and dropping his hand.

“It,” Haru said flatly.

“What?”

“It.”

Rin’s eyebrows came together as he stared blankly at Haru in confusion for just a second before realizing what he meant.

“Yeah, funny,” he said, walking away as his stomach jerked harshly in his abdomen. A small smile grew on his face as he threw himself across the bed on his stomach, his elbows propping him up as he watched Haru stare blankly at the moth.

Haru joined him soon, a steady hum of cicadas from outside filling the room.

“You’re soaking wet,” he said flatly. “Don’t lay on my bed.”

“I already am,” Rin said, rolling his eyes. He picked at his fingernails, the drone of the air conditioner kicking in and mixing with the insects outside.

“My mother wants us to pick up flowers for the flower garden tomorrow,” he said, picking at a loose thread on the sheets.

“Haru, you know I’m not actually a gardener, and I have about zero experience or knowledge when it comes to which fucking flowers to get, right?” he asked, looking up at him.

Haru shrugged.

“I’m going with you, so it shouldn’t be that difficult.”

Rin nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, pushing himself off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Haru asked as Rin walked over to the dark, wooden dresser, opening the bottom drawer.

“Changing into something I can sleep in,” he said, looking over his shoulder at a confused Haru. “I don’t want to get your silk sheets all wet.”

He was silent for a few seconds before Rin heard a nearly inaudible mumble.

“You’re staying,” he said.

“Duh,” he grinned, pulling out a pair of familiar sweatpants. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“We have at least 5 guest bedrooms, you know,” Haru said as Rin opened the door.

“Your mattress is probably a hell of a lot more comfortable,” he laughed.

“If you get sick and end up getting me sick again, too, I’m never speaking with you again,” Haru said, standing up and walking to the drawer that Rin left open, pushing it shut with his toe. “Hurry up.” He paused. “I’m going to bed.”

 

* * *

 

Haru’s gaze was fixed on Rin’s lips as he laughed, the baker’s voice echoing throughout the kitchen mixed with the gardener’s. He wasn’t sure what they were speaking about, nor did he particularly care, but Rin was laughing, and that was enough for him.

“Alright, Rin, it was nice talking to you, but I have work to do,” she chuckled.

“And so do you,” Haru said as Rin glanced at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rin mumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

He left, the front doors soon echoing shut. The smile that unknowingly grew on his lips faded as the echo faded, as did his enthusiasm for being awake.

He would much rather have remained upstairs alone with Rin, the fleece of their sweatpants being the only thing stopping their skin from touching, the pale rays of the rising sun coating the room in pastels, their hushed breaths synced with the other’s.

“Do you want me to prepare two breakfasts this morning?” she asked.

Haru glanced at her as she grinned over her shoulder, her hands already mixing some thick batter.

“No,” he said simply, sliding onto the stool.

“You aren’t going back to bed?”

“No point,” he shrugged, tracing the rim of the glass of water in front of him.

“This boy is changing you already,” she mumbled.

Haru smiled to himself, taking a sip of water to hide it from the woman in front of him who wore a grin on her face.

“I’m making those cinnamon rolls you’ve always loved.”

“You don’t make them right,” Haru mumbled, straightening his back as he caught himself slouching.

She laughed loudly.

“It’s my own recipe,” she chuckled over her shoulder. She remained quiet for a moment before speaking up again. “I’ll make a whole batch and you can figure out what you want to do with it for yourself.”

“Aren’t you going on vacation?” Haru asked, tracing the dark marble streaks in the countertop with his fingertips.

“Friday, yes,” she said.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see, and took a sip of water.

The sound of the weed-whacker started up and cut off abruptly, a muffled, shouted “shit” coming from outside.

Haru laughed silently along with the baker before they fell silent again. He seemed to quite like the baker’s company, her soft tone giving the impression of someone interested in what he had to say rather than interested in his title, and though he was technically her boss and he knew she was only polite to him for that same reason, he still felt a sense of tenderness when speaking with her.

“He was here quite early,” she said, switching on the oven with her elbows.

“He was here late,” Haru responded. “He came last night.”

She laughed again, a strand of blonde hair falling from her bun as she threw her head back.

“I should have known,” she mumbled, turning to face him. She leaned against the counter as she spoke. “Your parents left you with some responsibilities, and distractions are good, but don’t forget.”

“You are not my mother,” Haru replied, trying not to let the venom seep into his tone, “And he is not a distraction. He’s an employee.”

She raised an eyebrow, sighed, and turned around, slipping the pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven.

Few words were exchanged for the next twenty minutes, her footsteps pattering in and out of the kitchen being the only thing filling the silence between them.

The oven began to beep, and her footsteps padded back quickly – oven mitts already on her arms – and she took the pan out.

“I’ll prepare them myself. You can leave,” Haru said, sliding off the stool.

“Are you sure you can pour icing from a bowl?” she asked with a grin.

He almost smiled, but swallowed it, nodding once.

“Thank you.”

She left, and Haru glanced out the window, immediately catching sight of the redhead on his knees, shirt stripped off already and his shorts covered in bits of grass.

There was no way he was going to come in here sweaty and covered in grass.

He smiled as he watched the boy pull his hair back into a ponytail, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm.

His stomach rolled as his mind filled with the familiar thoughts of Rin all over again, just like last night. He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to focus on preparing his breakfast.

Within ten minutes, two plates were set on the island – one with strawberries, the other without – and Rin stood in the doorway, his left hand gripping the shirt slung over his shoulder, his right holding a water bottle.

“Put your shirt on before you sit down,” Haru mumbled, watching a spare droplet of water make an invisible trail down Rin’s chest.

He laughed, draining the rest of the bottle and throwing it away before slipping on his shirt and slipping onto the stool next to Haru.

“These look good,” he grinned, picking up a strawberry slice and popping it in his mouth.

Haru didn’t reply, his mind buzzing too loudly with Rin sitting so closely.

It was an odd feeling that settled under his skin, one that was a result of sleeping next to someone, their body warm and welcomed underneath the sheets, breaths marginally out of sync, fingers almost daring to touch what little skin they could barely reach, every blink getting slower and lasting a bit longer until fluttering eyelashes finally settled on their cheekbones.

Haru had never felt anything like it, had never been more comfortable, more at ease, than when he felt Rin’s arm unconsciously wrap around his waist. It simultaneously burned and elicited a shiver, Haru’s body instinctively reacting to the touch, moving to fit the shape of Rin’s.

Now, as he sat barely 18 inches away from Rin, he could feel the same heat radiating from him.

“Are you gonna eat that?” Rin asked through a mouthful of cinnamon roll, icing on his chin.

“Yes,” Haru said biting into it immediately.

“That’s not how you eat a cinnamon roll.”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to like – I don’t know – peel it. Y’know,” Rin shrugged.

“No, I don’t.”

“Stop just biting into it. It’s weird.”

Haru rolled his eyes, sliding off the stool.

“Do you want another one?”

“There are more?”

“Of course there are more,” he mumbled. “That woman could bake enough to end world hunger if you let her.”

Rin laughed, the pure sound ringing off the marble floors, and as Haru sliced a few more strawberries, a smile grew on his lips.

He remembered hearing it in bits last night, lying awake as Rin went on about the unimportance of geometry (“Who cares if it’s a polygon or not? No one cares about the area, no matter what shape it is.”).

“You’re pretty cool,” Rin smiled as Haru put the fresh cinnamon roll in front of him.

“Because I give you cinnamon rolls that I didn’t bake?”

“No,” he laughed, “But that part is pretty cool, too.”

Haru looked at him, arched an eyebrow, then looked at his unfinished breakfast. His stomach was tight all of a sudden, his appetite beginning to slip away.

“‘Thanks, Rin,’” Rin said in a monotonous voice. “You’re welcome, Haru.”

“I didn’t thank you,” Haru mumbled, “And I don’t sound like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I forgot that you don’t fucking enunciate anything.”

“I have work to do,” he said, sliding off the stool and putting the plate in the sink.

“What? I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling,” Rin said in a muffled voice, doing the same. He had unrolled the cinnamon roll, half of it in one hand, the other half hanging from his mouth.

“What? I couldn’t hear you. You were trying to talk with half a cinnamon roll in your mouth,” Haru spat back.

Rin’s eyes narrowed before a smile invaded his lips. He shoved the rest of the roll in his mouth and washed his hands.

“I’ll catch you later, Haru,” he said, winking and heading for the back door.

Minutes later, as he dragged his feet up the stairs, he heard the French doors open.

“Hey, Haru,” Makoto said, closing the front door quietly behind him. “Ready to go?”

_Shit_. He’d forgotten about the flower run they needed to take.

“No,” he deadpanned, continuing up the steps.

“Are you going back to bed?”

He didn’t answer.

“Haru?”

Makoto sighed, eventually following him up the stairs, the soft echo of his footsteps slightly out of sync with Haru’s.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” he sighed.

“No,” Haru replied. “I just hoped you would.”

“And I’m sure your mother would just love it if she came back and there were no flowers in the back.”

“The woman has 3 flower gardens. Where the hell does she plan on putting these?” Haru spat as they reached the top of the stairs.

“It’s not your problem, Haru. I’m sure Rin will figure something out. Besides, even if he messes something up, she loves him.”

Haru rolled his eyes, kicking his door open and going straight to his closet, tossing a pair of jeans and a white button-up t-shirt on his bed while Makoto continued to talk.

He could feel his patience wearing thin, and it had absolutely nothing to do Makoto, but everything to do with Rin. A moment without him seemed pointless. What was there, if not Rin?

“Maybe you could come out to dinner with Sou and me,” Makoto grinned. “You could bring Rin along, too.”

“No,” he said, buttoning his shirt.

“Haru, it would be fun.”

“ _No,_ ” he repeated, his stomach turning at the thought of being in such a setting with Rin. “I’m ready. Come on.”

They trudged down the stairs again, Makoto’s shoes dragging lightly and falling slightly behind as Haru flung the front doors open, immediately catching the eyes of the redhead bent over a weed whacker in the vegetable garden.

“Rin, let’s go,” he called, beginning to cross the lawn.

“Where?” he yelled back, standing up and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Flowers,” he responded as he got closer. “You don’t know anything about flowers, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might have forgotten about that.”

Makoto emerged from the house a few seconds later, a pair of keys in his hand.

“Ready to go?” he beamed, tossing them once in the air.

Rin looked at him questioningly, then back at Haru, who was apparently waiting for an answer.

“Fine,” he sighed, “But don’t expect me to stay any later because you decided to drag me away from work – again.”

“I’ll pull the car around,” Makoto grinned, turning and heading for the garage. When he was out of earshot, Rin looked at Haru.

“Why is he driving?” he asked.

Haru shrugged, turning to face the garage. Rin smiled.

“You can’t drive.”

“I never had any reason to learn,” he replied coldly. “Besides, I’ve never seen _you_ drive, either.”

“But I _can_.”

“What does it matter anyway?” he bit.

“It doesn’t,” Rin shrugged. “It just never occurred to me that you couldn’t. You have 5 cars, and you can’t even drive them.”

“Other people drive for me,” Haru mumbled, his gaze trailing.

Rin rolled his eyes.

“I would think that you would have had like, a personal driving instructor teaching you in a Bugatti or a Lambo before you could even go to a PG-13 movie.”

“My parents never thought it was that important, and neither did I,” he said looking back at Rin. “I always had rides into the city whenever I needed them, which was rarely anyway.”

Makoto pulled a silver car out of the garage and met them at the front gate, Haru opening the passenger door, Rin climbing into the back seat, sliding seamlessly over the slick, black leather.

“Makoto,” Rin said, leaning forward in his seat and looking at the green-eyed boy, “How come you never taught Haru how to drive?”

“He – well, he never asked,” he said, taken aback by the question. “I always just assumed he hated it, and that’s why he didn’t drive. Why? Do you want to learn, Haru?”

“No,” he said simply, staring out the window at nothing in particular.

Out of the corner of his eye, Haru saw Rin smile for just a second before it fell and he leaned back in his seat.

The trip was familiar to Haru, it being the same route Makoto took whenever they decided to go shopping, and he subconsciously counted the stoplights as they passed through them. 6 more stoplights, and they’d be there.

6 more stoplights, and Haru would be alone with Rin.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, and watched the streets as they left the city limits and massive stretches of green began to whip by them.

3 more stoplights.

Haru always loved this suburb of the city. It reminded him of a video game he used to play with Makoto when they were young, the green expanses dotted with flowers of a hundred different colors.

1 more stoplight.

The greenhouse was fast approaching, and Haru’s stomach clenched. He was nervous, though he didn’t quite know why. Being alone with Rin was nothing new, but then again, he didn’t always have the memory of a lingering wet dream etched on the back of his eyelids when he was around him.

The temperature was lower than usual, but the air was still just as heavy with humidity, and Haru cringed the second he stepped out of the car into the dirt parking lot of a small shop with an attached greenhouse in the back. The bottom of the small, white fence was dotted with speckles of something that was apparently either mud or animal feces – he couldn’t tell, and quite frankly, didn’t care to – and he heard Rin yawn beside him.

“I have to make a couple of stops around town,” Makoto said out his window to Haru, who stood expressionlessly next to a smirking Rin. “I’ll be back in just a bit.”

They watched the silver car disappear in silence before Rin glanced over to Haru, who returned the sideways glance.

“Let’s go get some damn flowers,” he smiled, throwing his arm around Haru’s shoulders and tugging him toward the storefront.

It took every ounce of self-control he had in him to shrug the boy’s arm off, not to lean into the shape that his body would fit so easily, to act like his stomach wasn’t churning madly inside of him.

Rin threw the door open, and Haru watched as his eyes danced over the hundreds of colors before settling on one, rushing over to them.

“These,” he said, holding up a large pot of closed blue flowers.

“No,” he replied immediately.

“Haru, come on,” Rin spat.

“I don’t like hydrangeas.”

“That’s what these are?”

“Yes, my mother used to have pink ones all the time,” he mumbled, looking around the greenhouse for other flowers.

“Then she’ll love these,” Rin said, pushing them closer to Haru’s chest.

“I’m allergic.”

“Bullshit.”

“You could be allergic.”

“I’m not allergic to hydrangeas, Haru,” Rin said, rolling his eyes. Haru bit back a smile as Rin lowered the flowers, turning them in his hands. “I like them. They remind me of a certain someone’s eyes.”

Haru caught his eye as a smirk covered Rin’s features, and he looked away, feeling his face heat up.

“Cut it out,” he mumbled.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Rin said. “I was talking about your mom.”

Haru could tell his face only deepened as Rin spoke, but he glanced back at him anyway.

“That’s gross.”

“I’m kidding,” Rin said, almost choking on the laughter he’d been holding back. “Seriously, though, I want these.”

“They’re going to be pretty hard to care for at this time in summer,” he said.

“They’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Haru sighed. He couldn’t help feeling like he’d been arguing with a child this whole time, and seeing the way Rin’s face lit up when he gave in only added to that feeling. “Get some roses to go with them.”

“You only want the roses because they remind you of me,” Rin smirked.

“That, too,” he replied flatly.

He watched as Rin froze, a soft pink dusting his cheeks as he met Haru’s gaze, quickly looking away. A browning flower broke off in his hand as he fiddled with it, trying to reply, but only a choked “oh” coming out.

“I’m kidding,” Haru said, turning on his heel and heading toward the roses.

“You shouldn’t flirt with your employees, you know,” Rin mumbled as he hurried behind Haru.

“And you shouldn’t be flirting with your boss,” he retorted, stopped abruptly beside a row of chrysanthemums. “Do you like these?”

“No,” he said. “It’s different when I flirt with people.”

“Elaborate,” he demanded, leading him to more tiny flowers that not even he liked. “What about these?”

“Those are worse, Haru,” he said. “I don’t know. It just feels weird when you do it. You always seem – I guess – cold to everyone.”

“Not to you,” he said, picking up another pot of small flowers. “These?”

“What are they?”

“Snapdragons.”

“Would you get away from the small flowers? Get those,” Rin spat, pointing at the section of zinnias. “I know you’re not cold around me, which is why it’s weird.”

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked turning to face Rin. They were close enough that Haru could see the gold surrounding his irises, just like the night they danced together.

Rin froze once again, his eyes darting from Haru’s eyes to his lips before he shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he said, his voice much quieter than Haru had expected.

He stared at him a bit longer, letting his gaze linger on his lips before replying and breaking the strange intimacy between them.

“Okay,” he replied. “Then go find more flowers to match your eyes.”

“Whatever,” Rin mumbled, clutching the hydrangeas to his abdomen and turning away. “Maybe I’ll get some fucking grass so I can be reminded of Makoto’s eyes instead.”

Haru gripped his shoulder immediately, leaning in and just barely grazing his neck with his lips.

“I highly doubt you would think of Makoto before you thought of me in _any_ situation,” he said quietly, feeling Rin shiver minimally.

He was quickly shrugged off.

“Cocky, rich asshole.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reason You Started Reading This Fic, Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, u weebs

Haru sat silently at the edge of the pool with Rin, their legs submerged in the crystalline water, broken rays of white sunlight glistening across the surface. Every now and then their skin would brush against each other, and neither of them made much of a move to accommodate to the reoccurring accidental brushes.

Rin should have been working – they were both aware of the fact – but Haru had been perched at the poolside for an hour now, small conversation being made in between stretches of complacent silence.

The glistening water was bitterly cool against their bare legs, and the sun was blisteringly hot against their bare backs. On more than a few occasions, Haru had almost slipped into the frigid waters, but stopped himself every time. He was far too content being so close to Rin – close enough to feel the rays of the sun emanating from his skin onto Haru’s, close enough to hear each shallow, controlled breath he took as he watched the ripples lap at the tiled sides, close enough to feel the unrestrained urge to be closer.

After a few minutes, Rin straightened his back, smiled once at Haru, then slid into the water quickly. A wave of disappointment crashed through Haru before he followed, sinking in until his entire body was enveloped in the familiar icy water.

“Marco,” Rin called from behind him.

“I don’t like that game,” Haru said turning around, but not seeing the familiar flash of red. He squinted, scanning the water before he heard Rin again.

“Marco.”

He turned to where he’d heard the sound, only to be greeted with nothing. He sighed and crossed his arms, waiting for Rin to come back up. This was ridiculous. He was playing a child’s game.

“Marco,” Rin whispered from directly behind him, his breath ghosting over Haru’s neck and making him shiver and hold his breath.

He turned around slowly, taking subconscious care to stay as close as possible to Rin without touching him, and looked him in the eyes. His skin was freezing, but he was burning from the inside out.

“Polo,” he said quietly.

A smirk slowly grew on Rin’s lips, and Haru stared at them as they parted, allowing Rin to lick them quickly.

“You haven’t tagged me yet,” he said just as quietly, “And your eyes are supposed to be closed.”

Haru rolled his eyes, but closed them anyway, reaching between them and laying his fingertips gently on Rin’s chest. He could feel Rin’s heartbeat beneath his palm, beating almost in time with Haru’s own, and before he could pull away, he sensed Rin leaning in, the once controlled breaths now rapid just centimeters away from his face. Haru himself couldn’t breathe, the hand not against Rin’s chest clenching at his side.

“God _damn it_ ,” Rin hissed, suddenly wrenching away. Haru’s eyes tore open, only to glare at Rin’s retreating figure. This had happened too many times, and Rin _knew_ it pissed him off. He was _so fucking close_ , and he knew Rin wanted to do it. _He himself_ wanted Rin to do it, but he wouldn’t. Something irrational was stopping him, and he was getting sick of waiting for Rin to get over it.

He knew about Rin’s boyfriend, and he knew that his boyfriend had dumped him. He _didn’t_ know, however, what else could be stopping him.

Rin pulled himself out of the pool, sitting back on the edge where he’d been before, running his hands through his hair and tugging.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice carrying gently over the water. “I don’t even have an excuse this time.”

His voice dropped, and Haru would have missed the last part, had he not been so focused on the words leaving Rin’s lips.

Haru made his way next to Rin, pushing himself out as well and resuming the familiar silence they’d grown so accustomed to.

Minutes passed before Haru began to relax, his jaw no longer clenched, and his fists no longer balled in his lap.

“Hey, let’s go driving,” Rin said, slapping Haru’s chest and pushing himself up, heading straight for the garage.

“You’re not driving my cars,” he called, walking fast to keep pace with him.

“I know,” he grinned. “You are. I’m riding along.”

“No, you know I can't drive,” he said, gripping Rin’s arm to make him stop. “We’ll get Makoto to drive us in.”

Rin rolled his eyes, tugging his arm back.

“The point of us hanging out is for the _two of us to hang out_ , Haru,” he said.

Haru froze momentarily, shocked that Rin would be so blunt about wanting to be alone, especially after what had just occurred.

“You want to hang out?” he asked, his tone giving the impression of it being a statement rather than a question.

“God, yes, Haru,” Rin laughed. “We’re going to the beach.”

“I don’t want to go to the beach.”

“Have you ever _been_ to the beach?”

“Yes, and I don’t like it. There are too many people,” Haru said, turning away from Rin.

“That’s part of the fun,” he sighed. “I promise you’ll like it if you come with me.”

He glanced at Rin, half expecting a sarcastic grin to be covering his face, half expecting a facetious smirk. There was neither, though. Instead, he looked serious and almost desperate, like Haru agreeing to go to the beach would be the best thing that happened to him all day.

“What about work?” Haru asked, his gaze trailing back to the pool that Rin was supposed to be scrubbing.

“You and I both know you weren’t planning on letting me finish my workload today,” he said, rolling his eyes and smiling.

He wasn’t wrong. Haru had purposefully not left a note in order to get Rin upstairs to see him first thing in the morning, only to list off a dozen things that had to be done. Rin only got an hour of work done before Haru sauntered out to the pool, where they’d been ever since.

“Fine,” he agreed, watching with a small smile as Rin threw a fist in the air. “If I don’t like it, you’re fired.”

“Don’t joke about that anymore,” he said wincing. “My dad is probably still trying to get me fired.”

“He won’t,” Haru bit, his jaw setting hard as he thought back to the disaster after the dinner party.

Rin was silent before he nodded.

“Right, so, call your driver, and we can head out, okay?”

Rin took off jogging toward the pool house as Haru made the call, and within minutes, as Rin tugged his shirt over his head, a midnight blue convertible pulled out of the driveway and parked in front of them. The familiar man stepped out to open the doors, but Haru waved him off, stepping in after Rin.

The car ride was filled with random conversation and mild brushes that made Haru want to simultaneously scoot as far as possible away from Rin and move incrementally closer to him.

“If you had to cut off any body part, what would it be?” Rin asked. Haru looked at him strangely before biting the inside of his cheek.

“Pinky toe,” he answered.

“Weak.”

“What about you?”

Rin pursed his lips, leaning back further into the black leather seats.

“Pinky toe.”

“Weak.”

“I wouldn’t voluntarily cut my own body part off,” Rin said. “Are you crazy?”

Haru rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the sights outside his window. The beach was a good distance away from the estate, but Rin didn’t seem to mind. Haru himself quite liked being the passenger, watching fields of grass whip by in green fragments, broken apart in his vision by sidewalks and alleyways. The songs playing on the radio quickly gave him a headache, however, and judging from the way Rin would press his temples every few seconds, he was getting one too.

“Could you turn the radio off?” Haru asked his driver.

“Sure thing,” he replied, flipping it off immediately.

“Thanks,” Rin mumbled.

Haru nodded in response, letting his eyes slip close and feeling the soft vibrations of wheels speeding along the interstate.

The rest of the drive passed by quicker than he’d thought, and before he could process the tightening sensation in the pit of his stomach – whether it was from excitement or anxiety, he wasn’t sure – they were standing side by side in the sand, the noontime sun casting a blinding shimmer over the waves.

“I’ll race you to the water,” Rin said, tearing his shirt off and dropping it in an empty area along with his wallet as he sprinted ahead.

“Cheater,” Haru called after him, doing the same.

Hours disappeared as they ventured farther out in the crashing waves, and then another as they stretched out in the shade cast by a nearby umbrella planted in the sand. They were breathing heavily, mouths dry and hair dripping salt water onto burning skin.

“What else is there to do at a beach?” Haru asked, his eyes paving over the scene, taking in each last detail, from the tear in the purple umbrella next to them to the dog carrying a fish in its mouth down the coast. Eventually, his eyes landed back on Rin, who was already looking at him with an expression painted with concentration.

Rin hummed in thought, running a hand through the thick, damp locks.

It was nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from the ruby irises, practically glittering in the late evening sunlight. He didn’t want to. Having Rin look at him the same way he looked at Rin was something new as of late, only occurring when Rin was otherwise distracted.

“Oh!” Rin exclaimed suddenly, his eyes darting past Haru’s and to something behind them. His hand reached out instantly, gripping softly onto Haru’s bicep and tugging him toward a booth with a red and white striped umbrella. “You have to try this stuff.”

His fingers gently slid down his arm slowly and nearly inconceivably, had Haru not been painstakingly aware of every move he made when Rin’s skin touched his. It came to rest on the middle of his forearm, and Haru bit the side of his cheek, silently willing Rin not to let go.

He did, though, and all too soon.

“What is it?” Haru asked, his delayed response coming at last as he processed the words Rin had spoken nearly 30 seconds prior.

“It’s like a Sno-Cone, but better,” he said as they approached the stand.

The sign hanging to the left read **LENA’S SHAVED ICE** , and the one to the right looked to be a menu, crudely decorated with small, acrylic paintings of what looked like multicolored ice cream scoops in little blue bowls.

A young girl sat behind the cart, a thick book lying on the stool next to her. Her sunglasses were too big for her face, and they rapidly slid down her nose each time she pushed them up, only to have them slip right back down.

“Hello, sirs,” she said, her smile widening as Rin grinned back at her. “Would you like some shaved ice? It’s a perfectly warm day for some.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he grinned.

“Pick your flavor,” she said. The girl pushed the sunglasses back up and gestured in front of her to the clear surface, displaying a variety of different colored buckets.

“Haru,” Rin said, nudging Haru with his elbow. “What kind do you want?”

He shrugged.

“Whatever kind you like best.”

“What if you don’t like it?” Rin asked. Haru glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

“I will.”

“Whatever,” he sighed, then turned back to the girl with a smile. “We’ll take two blue raspberry ones.”

He slid the girl more than what was owed as she handed them two small bowls with perfectly rounded scoops of shaved ice. Rin handed him a plastic spoon as they turned, and he watched as it cut through the blue ice so easily. It was almost a shame, seeing the perfectly untouched surface being messed up so quickly.

“Thank you,” the girl grinned. “Enjoy your shaved ice!”

They walked away from the cart with Rin still smiling into his bowl as he made crescents in the blue mound with the tip of his spoon.

“Okay,” he said as they approached a bench. He sat down, Haru following suit. “Try it. Your life will be changed for the better, I swear.”

He caught Rin’s eyes one last time before scraping a line out of the center of the mound and slipping it into his mouth. He didn’t miss the quick glance Rin took as his eyes locked on Haru’s lips for a split second before he tore them away as the spoon was removed.

The ice melted instantly in his mouth, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn up. It was incredible – so simple that it was nearly childish, but incredible nonetheless.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Rin laughed, shoving a spoonful into his mouth and groaning. “That girl is doing God’s work, whatever god is out there.”

Haru smiled, taking another bite as they fell into a comfortable silence.

Bits and pieces of conversations filled the air, and Haru listened as he spaced in and out.

“Let’s play a game,” Rin said, leaning back and sighing.

“I’ll win,” Haru replied quickly, leaning back as well. His full attention was on his bowl, but it was impossible to miss the eye roll that came from Rin.

“There aren’t any winners,” he said. “It’s just to pass some time.”

Haru took a bite as he looked at Rin.

“Fine,” he said. “What game?”

“People-watching,” he said simply, sticking his spoon through the shaved ice and setting the small cup down on the bench next to him. “You find someone, observe them for a few seconds, then come up with a quick summary of them. Who are they? What are they doing later? What’s their occupation? Stuff like that.”

Haru nodded along as Rin’s eyes danced from one stranger to the next.

“I’ll go first.”

He fell silent as his eyes remained locked on one stranger in specific – a woman with 3 small children looking up at her. She was smiling at them, leaning down slightly as one animatedly spoke to her. A sheer teal sarong was tied carelessly at her waist, and her blonde hair was slung into a loose ponytail.

“She’s a pre-school teacher,” he said, picking up his cup again. “She’s got a boyfriend waiting for her at home. No, she lives with her sister. Her sister is waiting for her at home. Her boyfriend is a construction worker. She wants to move to a small town and live in a big house with an even bigger yard, because she wants pets.” He paused and took a bite. “Dogs. She wants lots of dogs.”

Haru spooned another bite into his mouth as he nodded.

“I'd rather have a chameleon,” he mumbled, the nearly forgotten memory of his uncle's dogs tearing up his leg. He still had a faint scar on the back of his leg from where the dog's teeth broke the skin and Haru had to get stitches. 

“Your turn,” Rin laughed.

They fell silent again, and Haru watched as hundreds of people milled around them, some leaving with towels wrapped around their shoulders, others filtering in toward the sand, their towels still rolled nicely in their bags.

His eyes eventually fell on a man with fake hair and an even faker tan, his legs stretched out in front of him as he leaned back against a cooler.

“He’s a businessman,” Haru said, taking a small bite. “He owns internet and technology stocks covering half of America and most of Europe. His wife left him after their second child was born, and now he’s married to a woman who likes squid and thinks salt is a spice.”

Rin laughed loudly, quickly covering his mouth to avoid any ice from dropping out onto his lap.

“That was weirdly specific,” he said quietly, glancing again at the man who was putting on a pair of sunglasses meant for tanning beds.

“He does business with my father,” he said, spooning more ice into his mouth. “It’s all true.”

“Are you serious?” Rin asked, his eyebrows coming together as he leaned in.

Haru nodded.

“That’s cheating!” he hissed.

“You said there were no winners, so what does it matter?”

“That’s not using your imagination,” he said, leaning back harshly and taking a large bite. “This game is supposed to be creative. Try again.”

His words were muffled, and Haru raised an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.”

He glanced around again, his gaze settling quickly on a boy with chestnut hair pulled back into a sloppy bun, the sides shaved and dyed a bright blue.

“He’s only here because his mother made him bring his little brother, and his little brother didn’t even want to come.”

“What would he be doing if he weren’t here?” Rin asked, finding the boy Haru was staring at.

He shrugged.

“Come on, Haru,” Rin groaned. “It could be anything – sleeping, getting a tattoo, masturbating, shopping online because it’s way too fucking hot to be outside, anything.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought.

“On the phone with a girl he met two nights ago at a party.”

“Perfect. My turn.”

Rin tapped his bottom lip with the spoon as his gaze danced from stranger to stranger. Haru smiled to himself as he watched the redhead’s expressions change.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “That guy over there – the one with the Bluetooth – he’s undercover, and he’s on the lookout for foreign spies.”

“Spies hanging out on the beach?” Haru asked with a minimal smile.

“Where else would you expect to find a spy?” Rin laughed.

“Anywhere but the beach.”

“ _Exactly_. That’s what they want you to think.”

“Whatever,” Haru said, trying to force away the smile that refused to cease. “Go on.”

“His wife was killed by the French Ambassador, because she was undercover at an embassy and got found out. His son is a technological genius working under him, and his sister is head of the Department of Defense in Poland.” He paused, locking eyes with Haru. “Your go.”

After a few seconds, Haru found the will to tear his eyes away from the ruby irises and look at the strangers around them. His gaze eventually landed on a couple, whose interactions mildly reminded him of his and Rin’s from just minutes before – a hand wrapped loosely around the other’s forearm before it slowly slid down, fingers intertwining.

He watched them with a certain sense of interest, curiosity, and nearly a familiarity as they rolled their eyes at each other, laughing as one led the other toward them.

“They’re in love,” Haru said, gesturing toward the pair passing by hand in hand.

“That’s obvious,” Rin laughed lightly, nodding along.

The small cup of shaved ice was quickly melting in their hands, the soft blue shavings turning to a dark liquid gathering at the bottom. Haru swished it around before glancing over at Rin.

“Love is weird,” Rin said with an indiscernible shrug, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “It’s like watching for a lightning bolt during a storm. You have to be looking in the right place at the right time, but chances are you’re not going to see it even if you _are_ looking.” He paused, poking the remaining ice with his spoon and sighing. “Anyway, what else? What about them?”

“He’s thinking about proposing soon. He doesn’t care that his parents aren’t the biggest fans of their relationship, and neither does she. She wants to move somewhere else, where they can start a family. It’s all a dream, though. It won’t happen, because the relationship won’t last that long. There’s too many factors working against them.”

Rin stayed silent when Haru finished, setting his bowl down again.

He wondered if he’d said something wrong; Rin was never the one to initiate a stretch of silence. Haru was the one to begin it, and Rin was always the last one to speak.

He wasn’t sure if he should prompt Rin to say something, so he stayed quiet, setting his bowl down next to Rin’s as he began to count passersby.

He reached 103 before Rin spoke.

“That’s too bad,” he smiled sadly. “They looked like they’d be happy together for the rest of their lives.”

Haru shrugged, slightly relieved that Rin had finally spoken.

“They’re happy now,” he said. “Isn’t that enough?”

“One minute is nothing in comparison to the rest of your life.”

“So, one minute of happiness is pointless then? It’s not worth trying?” Haru asked.

“Of course it is,” Rin said, a singular breathy laugh escaping, “But it just sucks that it’s so short and – I don’t know – fleeting.” He paused before motioning toward the empty bowls between them. “Done?”

Haru nodded as Rin stacked them, standing up and stretching.

“I have to take a piss, and then we can go,” he said. “Don’t move.”

Haru sighed as he watched Rin’s retreating figure. He hadn’t even gotten out of sight before he pushed himself off the bench and followed Rin to the bathrooms. There were far too many people for him to feel comfortable sitting alone, let alone in a public place where people would undoubtedly recognize him if they looked for longer than a second or two.

He stood outside the building, keeping his eyes down and his face turned away from the door that released breezes that reeked of damp stone floors and unflushed toilets.

His stomach churched at the thought, and he took a few steps away.

The soft buzz of collective conversations from the swarms of people surrounding him emitted a sense of ease, and as he shifted his weight from foot to foot (occasionally getting asked “is this the line for the restroom?”) he almost missed the streak of red that passed him by.

He walked quickly to try and catch up to Rin, but walking through this many people proved to be a challenge, even for Haru.

“Fuck,” he heard Rin say in front of him. He was just out of reach, and if he were to speak up, Rin would easily be able to hear him. “Haru?”

Rin sped up, reaching the bench and frantically looking around.

“Haru!”

“Rin,” Haru said, pushing through the last few people and halfway tripping into Rin.

“Haru, I thought I told you to stay here,” he said, his voice half an octave higher as he caught his breath.

“I didn’t want to sit there alone,” he shrugged. “I was waiting for you back there. You walked too fast.”

“You could have said something,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Or at least waited inside so I could have seen you.”

He wrinkled his nose.

“No. I could smell it, and I wouldn’t ever step foot in there.”

“Fucking,” Rin whispered, covering his face with his hands, “Typical.” He paused before dropping his hands and taking a step toward Haru. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Rin, I’m not a child,” Haru bit.

He held up his hands.

“I know,” he said. “I know, but Haru, anything could happen. How would I explain to your parents that their son got hijacked at the beach?”

Haru almost smiled, but the underlying sense of something unfamiliar ate at his stomach lining, inverting the smile. Rin was genuinely worried – or at least it seemed that he was – and Haru briefly wondered if it was completely absurd to want to spend the rest of the day here with Rin. He assumed it was, and shrugged it off before meeting Rin’s eyes.

“Well, as long as you haven’t been kidnapped and replaced with a clone or some whacked up shit like that, are you ready to go?” he asked, scraping his hair back into a ponytail.

He didn’t answer vocally in fear of accidentally saying “no.” Instead, he looked away from the boy with shattered rubies in his irises and towards the sunset, the horizon beginning to bleed in shades of reds and yellows over the shallow, blackened waves.

He nodded once before looking back at Rin, seeing the horizon in his eyes.

Rin smiled softly before glancing towards the beach one last time.

“On second thought,” he said quietly, taking a step closer to Haru, “If you don’t mind, I think seeing the sunset from here would be an incredible experience.”

It took everything in Haru not to smile, and ultimately failed anyway as Rin grasped onto his forearm, tugging him gently toward the beach, the both of them masterfully weaving in and out of the swarms of people going opposite directions.

Finally, they reached the shore, kicking off their shoes and getting settled where the sand was still damp from the receding waves that lapped at their feet as they sat in silence, the last crowds of people either leaving or making their way farther away from the coast to watch the sunset from a drier area.

Haru’s chest ached and his skin was burning, and he had never felt more alive than he had today with Rin. He felt the sun scorching the skin on his back and tasted the saltwater splashing in his face and heard the laughter of a thousand strangers and most of all, he felt _normal_.

He wasn’t Haruka Nanase today.

He wasn’t engaged to Nanako today.

He wasn’t special today.

He wasn’t anything he’d ever been today.

He was solely, utterly, and completely _normal_ , and it was intoxicating.

When he looked at Rin, he was already looking at Haru, an endearing smile playing on his lips.

“What?” Haru asked, looking away.

“What were you just thinking about?” he asked quietly.

He shrugged, somewhat unwilling to answer. Rin wouldn’t be able to understand; not for lack of trying, but it was something that was too difficult for Haru to adequately explain.

“Oh, come on,” Rin groaned, leaning his head back. The deep orange rays painted the skin of his neck, and Haru couldn’t help but wonder about how it would feel to kiss that skin, glowing with the vibrancy reflecting the sunset.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he answered, bringing his legs in closer to him. “You make me feel –”

He paused, his tongue getting stuck on _normal_. That wasn’t the word he was looking for, but he didn’t think there wasn’t a better word to use.

Instead, he changed the thought completely.

“You piss me off,” he said quickly.

Rin stared at him for a second before he laughed loudly.

“I piss you off, and that’s why you were smiling to yourself? Thinking about me pissing you off?” he asked, brushing away a strand of hair, radiant with the brilliant hues in front of them.

“Yes,” Haru mumbled, feeling his cheeks warm. If Rin noticed, he’d blame it on the sun.

“Well, at least you’re thinking about me in some fashion,” he laughed. “I’m just glad I can make you smile even if I do piss you off.”

He didn’t answer immediately, letting the last of the sun’s rays warm his skin before inch by inch, it disappeared behind the vast, black waters.

“I think about you a lot,” he finally said, breaking the silence. He could hear others behind him slowly making their way out of the venue. The two of them stayed seated at the ocean’s shore. “Mostly about you pissing me off, but sometimes about other things.”

Rin laughed again, quieter this time.

“Yeah?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His irises remained alit by the darkened indigo sky, the gentle rubies drawing Haru closer. “That’s assuming there’s a time that I do something other than piss you off.”

“Sometimes everything but you pisses me off,” he said.

“You’re just full of irritation, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s not always attractive,” Rin smirked.

“If you didn’t think it was attractive, you wouldn’t piss me off so often,” Haru replied, suddenly realizing just how quiet and just how _close_ they’d gotten. Their breaths mixed with one another’s as Haru’s eyes locked on Rin’s lips.

“Ah, you’ve got me there.”

Haru couldn’t think of a reply, and, if he was being honest, probably wouldn’t have replied even if he _did_ have one. He was so close to closing the gap between them, and Rin was doing nothing to stop him from doing it. Just another inch or two, and their lips would be brushing against each other’s.

He thought he heard Rin’s voice whisper his name, but everything was fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other in his mind and sounds becoming nothing more than a static drowned out by his heartbeat.

He thought he felt Rin’s fingers slowly trail along his neck, coming to tangle themselves in his hair, but his body was numb and his skin was burning.

One thing he knew for sure.

He knew Rin’s lips had finally – _finally_ – come to graze agonizingly slowly over his own, their breaths stopping for just a second, their movements halted in time, slowed down like they were stuck in a form of limbo. He knew Rin’s heartbeat was synced with his own, beating deafeningly in his ears, and he knew Rin wasn’t going to back out this time.

He would make sure of it this time.

All at once, his body broke away from the numbness, feeling Rin’s name shape itself on his lips and drip from his tongue, but not hearing his own voice, and for a fraction of a second that stretched on for hours, all he saw was Rin.

And when he closed his eyes, all he heard, tasted, _felt_ was Rin, Rin, _Rin_ – Rin’s fingers gripping the back of his neck pulling him closer, Rin’s body pulled up against his with only their skin between them, Rin’s breath mixing with his own as they both grasped frantically at each other like they were the last ones alive, Rin’s lips moving in desperate rhythms, never once breaking it until Haru pulled away.

Haru leaned forward once more, closing any distance between them again as his lips met with Rin’s in one quick movement, a delicate moan slipping from Haru’s tongue straight onto Rin’s. His palms hit the sand as Rin leaned back with a ragged groan, a flash of heat shooting through his body like the burn of alcohol.

The taste of saltwater invaded his senses, setting his entire being on edge, and their movements rapidly became desperate, somehow remaining fluid and synchronized in the midst of the eager, voracious grasping; hands gripping bare, flushed skin, fingers twisting, clenching in locks of hair still damp with saltwater.

His body melded with Rin’s as they tangled themselves into a sandy, sweaty knot, the waves promptly beginning to rise.

“Fuck,” Rin whispered, moaning into Haru’s mouth one last time before he pulled away. “I’ve been waiting to do that for _so fucking long_.”

“I know,” Haru replied, resting his forehead gently on Rin’s before smiling.

The tide reached Haru’s shins and the stars had begun to appear before Rin sighed.

“We should get home,” he said quietly, his eyes flickering to the side. They were alone on the shore, surrounded by nothing but the hum of the tide and the gentle lights of nearby storefronts.

Haru’s body was still shaking as he nodded, pushing himself off of the redhead that lied underneath him.

His lips were prickling with the absence of Rin’s the entire way home, and as he watched the streak of red disappear into the small apartment on the corner of West Main and Cherry, a sense of doubt began to steadily fill his senses.


	22. Chapter 22

Rin shot a quick text to Sousuke, telling him to unlock the door and that he’d be there within the next 10 minutes.

His body hadn’t stopped buzzing since last night, still feeling the electrifying high running through his veins from when Haru kissed him.

Getting through the day without being able to see Haru was proving to be far more difficult for Rin to cope with when all he wanted to do was kiss him again. He was beyond pissed at himself for being such a _bitch_ this past month or so, not being able to muster up the courage to kiss him when he knew he should have.

He kept telling himself that the reason he wouldn’t kiss him was because Haru was his damn boss, but if he was being honest, he was too much of a chicken to go through with it.

He smiled to himself, stepping out of his way to kick a rock on the sidewalk, and let Haru invade his thoughts until he reached Sou’s doorstep, flinging open the door and seeing him in a pair of familiar faded blue boxers and a gray tank top with a very obvious tear in the bottom. A bottle of apple juice was on the table (the cap nowhere in sight), and cookie crumbs littered the skin on his chest above the neck of the tank.

“Dude,” Rin said flatly, arching an eyebrow and glancing down at the boxers.

“What?” Sousuke asked, his mouth full of what Rin could only assume was a chocolate chip cookie.

“How the hell do you stay in shape? And I thought your mom told you to throw those boxers out when you were 15,” he hissed before rolling his eyes. “I don’t know why I even try anymore. Okay, looking at you in your current state, I know I’m going to sound absolutely crazy to anyone else, but I need your advice on Haru.”

“You know that little fucker a hell of a lot better than I do, man,” he grinned, pushing himself up and dusting off his chest.

“But you know _me_ a hell of a lot better than I do,” Rin said. A long, high pitched moan came from the television before Sousuke turned it off. “Were you watching porn?”

Hee smiled before he sighed, stretching out and jerking his head toward his room. “Bad _X-Factor_ auditions,” he said. “Now follow me into the Den of Divine Advice,” he said.

“Stop being such a fucking loser,” Rin mumbled. The smiley face on Sousuke’s left buttcheek stared up at Rin. “And put on some pants when we get to your Advice Den. His eyes follow you. It’s creepy.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t constantly check out my ass when I wore them,” he smiled over his shoulder. “I know they make my ass look fantastic, but I’m a taken man now, Rin. I can’t have your curious eyes wandering down there anymore.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, shoot,” he said, slipping a shirt over his head. “Lay it on me. Whatcha got?”

“Haru kissed me.”

“What? Hold on,” Sousuke said. “You lost me.”

“How? I said 3 fucking words.”

“Haru kissed you?”

Rin made a gesture that seemed to mean ‘yeah, well,’ and shrugged, not sure what else to say.

“That’s…good?” Sousuke said slowly, then shaking his head as Rin shook his. “No. Bad. That’s…horrible. Oh, not good.”

“I know it’s not,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Bad kisser?”

“Fucking incredible kisser.”

“Hasn’t texted you back?”

“We’ve been talking on and off today.”

“Look, man,” Sousuke sighed, “I’m lost. Why is this a bad thing?”

He shrugged, kicking a pair of jeans to Sou, who remained pantless.

“I can’t have a relationship with my boss.”

“Then don’t let it be a relationship.”

Rin paused. He _wanted_ a relationship with Haru, but he didn’t see how he’d be able to separate boss-Haru from boyfriend-Haru.

“He just distracts me too much at work.”

“Tell him to chill out.” Sousuke paused. “I can tell that you like him; a hell of a lot more than you think, too,” he smirked, stripping his shirt and tossing it to a random corner in his room.

Rin felt his face grow hot before he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he groaned. “It’s not like that.”

“Then you want to use him as a distraction from Sei dumping you?”

“No! God, no,” he said quickly. “He didn’t dump me. We weren’t even together. I knew that wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway.”

Sousuke was silent as he slipped into a plain gray t-shirt.

“I liked Seijuro,” Rin said, picking at a loose thread on the bedspread. “I really liked him, but it wasn’t the kind of feeling that was strong enough to make me afraid to lose it. I know that kind of sounds shitty, but losing Sei doesn’t hurt as much as it should have. So, I’m glad he ended it before we ended up accidentally leading each other on.”

“What if you lost Haru?” Sou asked, slinging a jacket over his shoulder. Rin stood up, cracking his neck and heading for the kitchen.

“I don’t know,” he said sharply. “I can’t exactly lose him, though. He’s my damn boss, which brings me _right back_ to block one.”

Their bare feet padded in an uneven, out of sync rhythm into the kitchen, Rin’s chair scraping along the ground as Sousuke pulled a plate of pasta out of his fridge.

“Want some? It’s Mama Yamazaki’s linguine,” he offered, waving the plate around before slipping it into the microwave.

He shook his head, his foot methodically kicking the leg of the table.

“You eat too much pasta.”

“No such thing.”

“I need to talk to him about the way he acts when I’m over there, honestly,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a minimal smile breaking out over his features. “He’s so distracting, and I think he does it just to piss me off when I don’t get my work done on time. He didn’t let me work all day yesterday. That’s 8 hours of pay that I won’t be getting.”

The microwave beeped, and Rin cringed. He hated that noise.

Sousuke still didn’t speak as he dragged his chair out, plopping himself in the seat across from Rin.

“You know when you hate something so much, but you can’t look away from it?” Sousuke nodded once, blowing on the steaming pasta, before Rin continued. “That’s how it feels to be around Haru during work, except I don’t hate him at all. I hate that he’s not letting me do shit, but it’s impossible to ignore his presence, even if he’s just _sitting_ there.”

“It’s better than ignoring you, right?” he said finally. “Or are you looking for a different type of attention?”

Rin crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“I didn’t say I wanted his attention.”

“But you do.”

“I want it in a way that doesn’t limit our conversations to poolside small talk and ‘chilling-on-a-ladder-outside-your-room’ chats.”

“You’re confusing the shit out of me,” Sousuke said.

Rin made a noise that felt like a sigh, but sounded more like a groan.

“I want to hang out with him, but I can’t tell him to fuck off while I’m at work. I know he won’t say yes, and I really don’t want things to be awkward. Follow?”

“Yeah. I think. Have you played the jealousy card yet?” he asked through a mouthful of linguine. “Try and get him to see you out with other people so he’ll want to go with you, too?”

“No,” he spat back, flicking a day-old crumb off the table at him. “He wouldn’t get jealous; he’d just get pissed, and that’s not something I can afford right now.”

He nodded his head slowly, pursing his lips in thought as he chewed.

“Well, I guess now that Sei is gone, and you’ve basically admitted to everyone but Haru that you’re crazy about him, you wouldn’t be able to pull off the jealously thing anyway,” he said.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I don’t want it to be desperate. I just want to be able to talk to him civilly about it, I guess. I don’t know.”

“About what?”

“About what?” Rin mocked.

“Shut the hell up. About what exactly? Wanting his attention?”

“No; about him distracting me during work,” he answered. “If he wants to hang out, I’d be okay with hanging out – obviously – but I need to work. I need the money.”

“Ask him to hang out then,” Sousuke said between bites. “I don’t see why this is such a big deal.”

“Because it feels too much like I’d be asking him on a date,” he shrugged, “And I don’t want it to go there yet.”

“But you like him.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You do?”

“God, Sousuke, you’re like a fucking fourth grader,” Rin sighed. “I like him, and I’m nearly 98% sure he likes me enough that he’d be okay with possibly leaving his house with me again, and as much as I’d love that, I need to focus on my job, and his hanging around isn’t doing anything but distracting me.”

“Talk to him about this shit,” he chuckled. “I can’t do anything about it.”

Rin paused, putting his hair into a ponytail as Sousuke leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“What are you doing Thursday?” Rin asked.

“Whoa, I thought you were supposed to be asking Haru out, not me,” he said, putting his hands up.

“Shut the hell up,” Rin said, throwing his water bottle at him. “Get Makoto, and we can go somewhere Thursday. Sound good?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grinned. “Now get out of my house. I have shit to do.”

“Like jack off to your reflection?” Rin asked, pushing away from the table and standing up.

“I was thinking more to the thoughts of –”

“I don’t need the details,” he snapped, cutting Sousuke off. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“It’s a date.”

Rin shut the door behind him, a weight lifted off his chest and replaced with the familiar lightness that came with the anticipation of seeing Haru. He’d planned to swing by later to see what he was doing. He hadn’t answered for some time, and as he headed toward the Nanase Estate, his phone buzzed.

 **What are you doing?** the text from Haru read.

**About to walk through your front gate.**

**Front door’s locked.**

**Come unlock it.** Rin replied.

**Go through the back. It’s always unlocked. You would know, after breaking into my house.**

He grinned, making his way around to the back of the house and slipping inside, kicking his shoes off.

“Haru?” he called.

“Upstairs,” Haru yelled back. His voice bounced off the tiled walls, making it sound like he could be anywhere in the house, from the foyer to the basement, had he not shouted his location.

He bounded up the stairs, skipping every other one, and when he reached the top, Haru’s door was standing wide open.

“What’s up?” Rin asked, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at Haru’s back. He was in a faded t-shirt and shredded jeans that looked like something his mother would have had a stroke if she saw them.

He turned around, his face expressionless, but soft, his eyes trailing from Rin’s eyes to his lips.

“Nothing,” he said, turning his back to Rin once more.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Texting Makoto,” Haru mumbled. Rin nodded, pleasantly surprised as he continued to speak. “He was supposed to bring over the blueprints for the renovations for one of my father’s associate’s assistants to pick up later today, and he’s late. If he doesn’t get them to me by noon, I’m fucked.”

“He’ll be here,” Rin said. “It’s Makoto.”

“I know,” Haru sighed, “I know. I just can’t fuck up while my parents are gone. I just –”

He cut himself off as his eyes met with Rin’s.

“Nevermind.”

They fell silent, but their gazes remained locked on each other’s until the light buzzing of Haru’s phone broke the spell.

“Makoto, where the hell are you?” Haru snapped, pressing the phone to his ear. “That bitch will be here any minute. Do you have the blueprints?” He paused. “No, the ones for the warehouse were last week. This is the – fuck – the renovations for the place in fucking – what is it? – D.C.?” Another pause. “There should be a note on them for the assistant. Katherine, I think. I don’t know, she’s blonde.” One more pause. “Then just bring them all. I don’t know what to tell you. See you soon.”

“Haru, it’ll be fine,” Rin said, taking a step toward him. “Trust me. He’ll be here in plenty of time.”

He hadn’t even gotten out the last syllable before a knock resonated through the house.

“That’s her. She’s here for the blueprints, and guess who _doesn’t fucking have them_?” Haru bit, his hands tugging on the black locks.

Rin gently wrapped his fingers around Haru’s wrists, pulling them from his scalp.

“Relax. Just go down there and distract her. Offer her a glass of wine and tell her that you have one of your people getting her shit together for her.”

“Distract her how, exactly?” he hissed, another knock echoing. “Fuck, I have to change.”

“I’ll distract her then. You wait for Makoto, and _chill_. I’ll take care of it,” he smiled, turning on his heel and rushing down the staircase, flinging the door open just as a young, blonde girl had her fist balled in preparation to knock again.

“Hello, Miss,” Rin smiled pleasantly. “You must be here to pick up the blueprints, yes? Would you care to come in for a glass of wine?”

She returned his smile, her lips curling into a smirk as she replied.

“I’d love to. Thank you,” she said, taking a step in. “You must be Haruka?”

“No, Ma’am,” Rin said, shaking his head. “Simply a friend of his.”

“Well, I suppose it is only natural for a family of such high standing to keep such high-class company,” she said, taking a step toward him, her fingers coming up to rest momentarily on his chest before they dropped to her side once again.

Rin’s stomach churned. He didn’t like where this conversation was going, and he prayed to any god that would listen that Makoto got here immediately. He led her into the parlor, inviting her to sit before excusing himself to get something to drink.

Luckily, there was someone in the kitchen – an older man Rin didn’t recognize – but knew where the Nanases stored the liquor, and with a glass of chardonnay in each hand, he made his way back to the blonde.

“For you,” he said, the glass slipping fluidly from his hand to hers, their fingers brushing.

“Thank you,” she replied. “So, a friend of the Nanase boy. That must be exciting.”

“Not as exciting as you may think, actually,” he smiled, taking a sip. “It’s mostly work for him. He doesn’t get out much.”

“No? That’s too bad. It explains why we haven’t seen much of him in the papers, though,” she nodded. “He’s so pretty. He’d make a fantastic front page.”

Rin nodded once, his eyes glancing toward the staircase.

“So, what are the blueprints for?” he asked, half out of desperation to change the topic, half out of genuine curiosity.

“Oh, some new plan to maximize the space for tourists in D.C. There’s apparently going to be a new power plant nearby, though, and that’s definitely putting a dent in our plans.”

“Interesting.”

She hummed, swishing her glass in her hand, and a thick silence fell over them.

Rin wished Makoto would hurry. He didn’t want to spend any more time with this woman than necessary.

“So, ‘Friend of the Nanase Boy’ –”

“Haru,” he said, cutting her off.

“What’s that?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in shock.

“Haru. His name is Haruka. Not the ‘Nanase Boy.’”

“Hm. Yes. _Haruka._ A beautiful, feminine name, isn’t it?” she smiled.

Rin didn’t like her smile. It spread over her cheeks like the way blood seeps from a gash – slowly, like it never even happened, then before you blink, it covers you.

“What is _your_ name?”

“Rin,” he bit, waiting for her to call his name feminine as well.

She paused, the glass frozen on her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” she smirked. “Rin. What have you learned about him?”

He sat back in the sofa, his eyes locked on her as she sipped the deep red liquid.

“I learned that he’s never given the proper credit he deserves.”

Haru entered the room as Rin stood up, and he’d never felt more relieved to see him.

“I’ll be going now, Haru,” he said quietly, putting slightly more emphasis on his name than usual. He barely took a step before Haru grabbed his shirt and pulled him back into a kiss that lasted just a second.

“I expect you to return some time tonight,” he said sternly, releasing his shirt.

He smiled as he made his way back up to Haru’s room. Maybe he’d stay just until tonight.

The ‘until’ he’d told himself earlier soon changed to a ‘for,’ and night swept over the mansion quicker than Rin had expected.

The rain fell steadily, hypnotically on the windows in Haru’s room as they laid in the silken sheets. He moved closer, leaning into Haru’s hands that ran through his hair, tracing the neckline of his t-shirt and the outlines of his chest.

There was something about Haru that seemed so real and genuine and beautiful, the way his eyes were fearless and calm, and in that moment, with his hands settled comfortably on Haru’s chest, Rin was hyperaware of the therapeutic heartbeat beneath his fingertips, the soft, warm eyes trailing so delicately over his face, memorizing each and every centimeter of him.

It was a passion he’d never seen in his eyes before, like the surface of a frozen ocean had broken and all that was left was the vast waters, serene and deep, endless and breathtaking. It didn’t make his stomach flip like Seijuro’s gaze did. It was nothing like his. It was something of a different caliber altogether. Looking at him made him numb, made him so blissfully at ease that if Haru was only looking at him to tell him that he was going to die within the next week, he would be just as calm as he would be if he was being told that it was going to rain tonight.

He fell in love with the tranquility and the addicting peace Haru made him feel. It was nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he’d never been more sure of anything than he was of them.

“I really like you, Haru,” he whispered into the darkness.

He didn’t answer at first, his breath momentarily catching in his throat.

“The last gardener was a friend of my mom’s,” he replied just as quietly. “She loved reading, and one of her favorite quotes was from a book called _The Time_ _Machine_ by H.G. Wells. She would always quote one line. ‘It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.’”

“You think I’m lying?” he asked, his voice rising just barely above a whisper.

“No,” he sighed. “I think you’re confused. I think you’re still mildly upset about Seijuro and I’m the closest thing to comfort you have right now. I think you should rethink what you’re saying to avoid another situation like that.”

“You knew about him?”

Haru didn’t answer, the silence answering for him as Rin’s voice echoed in the air.

“Haru, I –”

“Rin, please,” he whispered. “I don’t think it’s good to talk about right now. Just go to sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

Haru’s eyes flickered open for only a second before he clenched them closed again, the sunlight far too bright for his liking this early in the morning. Rin’s soft snoring filled the room, his arm draped over Haru’s chest.

He squinted until he could fully open his eyes, finally seeing the miniscule specks of dust floating around his room, made visible by the rays of sun casting pastel shadows along his carpet. Soft breaths ghosted across his collarbone every few seconds, each one inducing a gentle rise and fall of Rin’s chest, nudging against Haru’s arm.

It was strange for Haru – sleeping next to someone. The only person he’d ever slept next to was Makoto, and he still doesn’t count him. Rin, though – Rin was different. He was a different person, a different entity, a different being altogether. He was so unlike anything Haru had ever had the pleasure of seeing, touching, feeling before, and it was utterly, breathtakingly extraordinary; _he_ was extraordinary.

It wasn’t until the pastels outside his window began to brighten into harsher blues that Rin stirred enough to wake up.

He ran his fingers through the red locks, tracing his cheekbones and his jawline before lightly brushing his fingertips over his bottom lip.

He felt Rin smile, and he smiled, too.

“This is so weird,” he sighed.

Haru froze.

“What do you mean?”

“You touching me. You sleeping next to me. You letting me stay. All of it.”

He shrugged. He loved Rin being here. He loved the natural warmth Rin carried inside him.

He wanted to love Rin.

He didn’t think anything of Seijuro and his relationship – it was over and done with – but he couldn’t help but feel that _maybe_ Rin was still vulnerable. He felt like a vulture going in for the kill on an already dead animal.

A growl of Rin’s stomach broke the silence as well as the mild tension, and he laughed.

“What’s for breakfast? I can make some mean scrambled eggs.”

“I’m vegan,” Haru mumbled.

“Yeah, ‘vegan’ my ass,” Rin chuckled, sitting up and pushing his hair back.

Haru liked his hair in general, but he definitely liked it in a ponytail. That was how he’d first seen him, and he spread out on his bed and watched the redhead do a horrendous job in the gardens, but he was so entranced by him and his stupid red ponytail.

“Seriously, what do you want?” he asked.

Haru shrugged. He didn’t know what he was in the mood for. His chefs usually picked for him.

“Okay, we’re going out then,” Rin sighed, slipping off the bed.

“Where?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I was thinking maybe we could hit the day spa, maybe go to a fucking theme park or something,” he said, rolling his eyes. “For breakfast.”

“I have cooks downstairs. Probably,” he said, blinking twice as he watched Rin’s expression change into one of disappointment.

Going out with Rin? In public? Together?

The beach was fun, but it was far busier than a diner, and much harder to be identified as they were walking around. He wasn’t ashamed of liking him, or the inevitable rumors that would emerge in the event they’re found. It was quite the opposite – he was in awe of Rin and would be happy to show him off, but he wasn’t sure Rin wanted that. He wasn’t sure Rin was ready for that. The second Rin sees that, he’ll see that it won’t ever be normal being with him, and he was afraid of when that day would come.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Rin,” he said softly.

He didn’t reply for some time, sealing his lips and nodding once.

“Right. You’re right. I have to get to work anyway.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Haru said, his voice coming out harsher than he’d intended.

“Like what?” he asked, a bitter smile on his lips. “I’m not saying you meant it one way or another. I have to get to work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

He was out of the room before Haru could even process what had happened, but all he knew was that there was a heavy weight in his chest.

Watching Rin leave his room and hearing the sound of the French doors slamming shut shattered him, and it drove him crazy that Rin couldn’t understand what he’d been trying to say.

He _really_ liked Rin.

He wanted nothing more than to be normal with him and would give anything for it, even if it meant abandoning his surname – _especially_ if it meant abandoning his surname.

They could go anywhere in the world together; Milan, Tokyo, Las Vegas, Rio – anywhere Rin had ever dreamed of going. He would uproot everything he owned, sell it and use the money to buy a house of his own where nobody knew them, nobody would care.

His chest got heavy again, and his stomach growled.

He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. All he wanted was Rin, so why was that so hard to say? Why was it so hard to show Rin that he wanted him?

“Fuck,” he sighed. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck_. Fuck it all.”

“Oh, Haruka, it can’t be that bad.”

The baker poked her head in and smiled. He stared at her.

“What are you doing up here?”

“Well,” she chuckled, walking in holding a full plate of pancakes with bacon and hashbrowns on the side. “I made you both a special breakfast and even brought it up for you in case it hurt to walk – or sit – this morning. I guess I only needed one, though. Here ya go.”

The grin never left her face, even as Haru took the plate and put it at the foot of his bed. He wanted her to leave, but felt as if she had more to say. He wished she’d just say it already. She never would have come up here just to give him breakfast – she’d love to see him limp around a little bit.

“What do you want?” he asked flatly. The sound of the French doors still rang in his head.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just wondering if you’ll need help hiring a new gardener. The grass is looking a little overgrown, and those rose bushes are growing weeds like nobody’s business,” she laughed. “I happen to know a gardener who used to work at the White House in the States. Excellent man on a first name basis with the former President.”

“What are you talking about?” Haru hissed, his venomous tone doing nothing to shatter the stupid grin on her face.

“Well, the current gardener we have seemed to be causing many problems for you. It would be easier to find someone with more experience, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No,” he spat. Was she dense? There’s no way he’d replace Rin.

“Oh, I just assumed. After all, isn’t that how I got my job? Your pickiness in staff?”

“Yes, it is,” he said slowly, “And I suggest you keep that in mind before you continue.”

“Haru, that boy isn’t going to be here forever. Do something good for yourself and figure out what it is that you want.” She leaned in close enough so that Haru could smell the lingering scent of burnt toast on her before she continued. “And if it’s him, you better treat him with better respect than any of the other staff members you’ve gone through.”

She took the plate from his bed and left, shutting the door hard as she left.

He stared at the doorknob in silence, his ears ringing with every throb of his heart. His hands were shaky, and all he wanted to do was scream.

Sooner or later, he ended up at Makoto’s with a bottle of Patron in one hand and a can of soup in the other.

“Makoto!” he yelled, knocking on the door with his forehead. “Makoto, I’m here!” There was no answer. “Makoto!”

“Haru,” Makoto said, flinging the door open. He was shirtless, and long red lines streaked across his chest. “What are you doing here? Why do you have soup? Are you drunk?”

“No,” he spat. “Yes, technically, but for all intents and purposes, no, I’m not.”

“Get inside,” he said gently. “Come on.”

“Why are you naked?” Haru asked, turning away from Makoto’s outstretched arm.

“Haru, I’m not naked. I’m still wearing plenty of clothes.”

“Sousuke is here, isn’t he?”

“That’s not important. Why do you have soup?”

“Soup is more important than your boyfriend?” Haru asked.

Makoto sighed, leading Haru into the living room.

“Soup is not more important than Sousuke, no,” he said. “What’s more important is the fact that you’re holding soup while you’re drunk, screaming at my house at 1 in the afternoon. What happened? Is Rin okay?”

“Fuck Rin,” Haru spat. He smiled. That felt good. “Fuck Rin.”

“What happened? Did Rin do something?”

He was angry still; that much he knew, but was it really because of Rin? He didn’t think so.

“No,” he sighed heavily. “I just love him and he’s an idiot. He never does anything wrong.”

Makoto laughed.

“You love him, huh? Does he know that?”

“No, and that’s the fucking problem. I can’t even tell him because then I’ll have to explain that the only reason I’ve been afraid to lose him since I met him is because of that one time we went to Japan and I had to go home early and I watched the kid with red hair die in the seat next to me and Rin kind of reminds me of him and he was the first one to ever call me his friend – including you, so fuck you for that one.”

He couldn’t stop himself from talking, but found that it felt incredible to get that off his chest. He’d never mentioned it to anyone, seeing it as a trivial and seemingly unimportant event that shouldn’t have affected someone like it affected Haru. The kid was a stranger. He didn’t even tell him his name.

“I couldn’t save him even though I wanted to and I’ll lose Rin, too, even though I don’t want to because that’s how life works, y’know. Good things don’t exist; you have to create them, and even then anything can come along and fucking…smash it. Smash it. Crush it. And I don’t want to want Rin for just a little bit, like I wanted to know that kid on the plane for more than just a little bit. I want Rin for a long time, but I can’t, so I don’t want to want him at all.”

Makoto still didn’t reply, and Haru began to get frustrated. Was he even listening?

“But I can’t help it because fuck Rin.” He paused. “Can you please answer?”

“Haru,” he whispered. Haru looked at him and saw tears in his eyes.

“Stop crying. Start giving advice.”

“Haru, is that what happened that changed you so much? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “Can we get past that and just get to the part where everything is fixed?”

“No,” he sighed. “We can’t, Haru. You...you can’t be with Rin. It’s not a choice you have.”

Haru narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it really isn’t, and I’m sorry, but Nanako is your wife, as far as anyone is concerned,” Makoto said, his voice harsher than usual as he wiped his eyes.

“You don’t want me to be with Rin?” he asked. The Patron was heavy in his hand and even heavier in his stomach, and the words that came from Makoto’s mouth were like a punch in the jaw.

“Of course I do, but you can’t be,” he said. He sounded sad. He _looked_ sad. Then again, Makoto always looked sad.

“You’re right,” Haru whispered, his eyes falling to his lap. His vision delayed, and it took him a few seconds to realize the can of soup was still in his hand. “This is for you.”

He laughed and took the can from him.

“Thank you, but why did you bring me condensed chicken noodle soup?”

“Conversation starter,” he shrugged. He wanted to leave, but his legs were tired and his eyelids kept closing on accident. “Can I take a nap in your bed?”

“Well, you can, but do you want me to drive you home instead?” Makoto asked.

“Oh, right,” Haru smiled, “My driver is still here. Thanks anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You never finished what you had to say about Rin.”

“You know, Makoto, fuck off,” he smiled bitterly. “You don’t give a shit about Rin, or what I want. At least you’re happy in your _gay_ relationship and don’t have the media crawling around trying to mutilate the picture perfect image your diamond studded parents created out of your family. I don’t need to talk.” He turned around, holding the opened bottle high in the air as he made his way to the front door. It was plain wood – much less glamorous than his own French doors. “I’m out.”

“Leave the bottle, Haru,” Sousuke snapped.

“Where are you?” Haru asked, looking around before the boy came into view. He was coming down the stairs with an expression that Haru had never seen on anyone before. He was seething. “Makoto thinks soup is more important than you.”

“What?” he asked.

“I said, Ma –”

“Yeah, I heard you. You’re drunk. Give me the bottle, and get the hell out.”

“I came to talk to Makoto; not his _mother_ ,” he hissed, jerking the bottle out of Sousuke’s reach.

“Haru, I think you should leave,” Makoto said, standing next to Sousuke with that damn sad expression on his face. Why did they look mad at him? He was the one who was mad. He was mad at Rin, and mad at that stupid boy on the plane that knew he was going to die but called him his friend anyway, and mad at his parents for being so perfect, and mad at Makoto for taking their side. No one was on his side. Why? Why did he have to do everything alone?

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I will.”

He turned around again, slowly fumbling with the doorknob for a few seconds as he tried to get his thoughts somewhat in order.

He wanted to go to bed.

He’d fix things tomorrow. Maybe Rin wouldn’t be mad tomorrow, and they’d be back to normal.

Rin hadn’t been in the yard when he’d left, and Haru momentarily wondered if he’d officially quit. He wouldn’t have, though. He needed this job just as much as Haru needed him to be there.

He got in the backseat of the black car sitting in Makoto’s driveway and sighed.

“Sir, you seemed to have misplaced your bottle of tequila,” his driver said.

“I got my privileges revoked by two assholes in there,” he mumbled. “I think they took it, but I don’t remember.”

“Goodnight, Haruka. I’ll wake you when we get there, yes?”

“Goodnight.” He paused. “Hey, John?”

“My name isn’t John,” the man laughed.

“Hey, Carl?”

“My name is not Carl.”

“You’re an old white dude; there’s only so many names,” he spat.

“Chauncey, sir. I’m an old white dude who drove for the queen in my younger days.” Haru could tell he was smiling by the tone in his voice. How unfortunate that now he’s stuck with Haru all the time.

“I was close,” he mumbled.

“What is it, Haruka?”

“It’s Haru,” he said. “Not Haruka. Also, I love Rin.”

“I know, Haru,” he laughed. “Everyone knows.”

He smiled, then fell asleep with his cheek pressed to the hot black leather.

He loved Rin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..........................................
> 
> i am SO SORRY
> 
> just know that i love each and every one of you that reads this chapter after 6 months of no update
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAND
> 
> i would like to announce that this piece of work is actually coming to an end within the next couple of updates. I don't really see it going for more than another 6 chapters or so
> 
> BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT
> 
> i'm here to announce that i'm working on another rin/haru fic that'll be completely different. ok thanks for reading ily


	23. Chapter 23

Haru was awoken by the voice of one of his employees – he thought it might have been Rin at first, then got incredibly disappointed when not only did he realize it was a female’s voice, but it was also his day off – and his eyes opened slowly.

“What are you waking me up for?” he called. His voice felt thick and heavy and his head was pounding.

The scent of coffee quickly began to invade his room, and he inhaled deeply. He’d had a long night, and he wasn’t happy that he was being woken up for any reason other than a fire, and since he didn’t smell smoke, he wanted to be sleeping.

“You have company, sir,” she called through the door.

“Company?” Haru repeated. “Business?”

“Casual,” she replied. “I’ll tell her you will be down in a bit.”

“Please, do,” he said. “Thank you.”

_Shit._

He hated company, and he hated being woken up. The only thing worse than being woken up at all was being woken up _for company_ – more specifically, unscheduled company.

He brushed his teeth furiously, simultaneously slipping into a pair of black slacks and a light blue dress shirt he may or may not have worn a few days ago (it was slung over his desk chair, which meant it was _probably_ clean), and put on his shoes as he was going down the stairs. The irregular taps of one of his heels were the only sound in the house, save the hum of the air conditioner.

When he reached the bottom, he put his other shoe on, then smoothed his hair quickly before taking a step toward the parlor.

He froze when he saw who was waiting for him, instantly regretting rushing. He should have kept her waiting longer.

Nanako crossed her legs and leaned back as he came into view, a soft lock of golden hair falling from her ponytail and brushing against her left cheekbone. Her eyes never left the glass in her hand, an opaque impression of her lips smudging the crystalline rim.

“Isn’t a bit early to be drinking?” Haru asked, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning against the archway.

“It’s never too early to drink. That’s one thing I learned over in England,” she smiled, taking another sip of the glistening pink Moscato. “I heard you had your own little alcohol episode yesterday, too. You look like hell.”

“Why are you here?” he asked, resisting the urge to step forward. The tip of his shoe was undoubtedly making scuff marks on the tile as he tapped it, and he felt his senses tingling with the urge to either leave the room or enter it – he wasn’t sure which. He felt strange standing in the archway, Nanako refusing to meet his gaze, but was certain that if he got any closer, the overwhelming urge to bury her alive next to the atrocious flowers Rin picked out would return.

She didn’t answer right away, but her smile faded as she downed the rest of the wine.

“You know, this Moscato is _far_ better than the shit you had at the party,” she said, gently setting the glass on the coffee table before tucking the fallen lock of hair behind her ear.

“Why are you here?” he repeated, his hands clenching in his pockets.

“That’s no way to talk to a woman, let alone your fiancée,” she replied coldly, her arms fluidly crossing over her chest.

Haru didn’t ask again, knowing she’d reply sooner or later.

His eardrums were ringing in the silence, and his mind was still fuzzy from just waking up. Every nerve ending in his body was tingling with the memory of their last meeting, her words repeating in his head faster and faster every time he thought back.

She knew about his feelings for Rin, and although he didn’t particularly care that she knew, he _did_ care that it was a possibility she would spread it like a wildfire. He was nearly certain his father knew as well, reflecting on the poolside conversation they had had, but his mother was a different story.

“Come over here. Sit down. You look like you need a drink.”

“It’s too early,” he bit.

She nodded once, her eyes scanning the abstract mural on the wall.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get involved with Rin,” she said, her gaze finally meeting his as her hands came to rest in her lap. Her expression was calm, and her eyes were just as cool as her tone suggested.

His body froze momentarily, his lungs forgetting how to breathe, his heart forgetting how to beat.

He knew this was coming, but it terrified him as the words came from her mouth.

After a few seconds, he recovered, taking a few steps into the room, sinking down onto the loveseat across from her before she continued.

“I think you –”

“I think you have no say in anything I do,” he bit. “That business is none of yours. What happens in my life _stays_ in my life, and is not a part of yours.”

“Don’t be so ignorant, Haru. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but you know just as well as I do that that is a _bullshit_ lie,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m trying to protect you from each other.”

Had he not been anxious and annoyed past the point of comprehension, he might have respected her ability to be able to maintain such an unwavering tone.

“Don’t you know who you are?”

“Shut the hell up,” he snapped. She cut him off before he could continue.

“No, Haru, _you_ shut up. Look at yourself. Then look at him. He is _normal_. He’s _real_. He has a story and a past and a childhood. You? I’ve seen more personality in a baguette. You know exactly how it would end, anyway. You and I are endgame, no matter how bitter you want to be about it. You want to get involved in an inevitably condemned relationship? _Fine_. I don’t think you’ll do it, anyway. You may be naïve and stubborn beyond compare, but you aren’t stupid.”

Silence enveloped the room once more, and Haru’s mind went completely blank. She was right. The sinking feeling of doubt he’d had a few nights ago returned as she sat in the black leather armchair across from him. What did Haru have to offer Rin except money that he didn’t earn, property that wasn’t his, and a name he was born into? Rin was so full of life, and Haru was completely devoid of it. He would only drain Rin, and for what? She was right about all of it, including the fact that it was truly a condemned relationship. It wouldn’t work.

He knew that, too. He knew that it was one of the things holding him back all this time. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to him – and maybe it was less shock and more resentment at the inevitable.

“I know you don’t want to hear it from me, but I don’t know anyone else who has the right to say this: I want you to be happy with someone, but I also don’t think you should go into a relationship knowing how this thing between us will end up. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to him.”

“Stop, please,” he said, his voice much quieter than he’d wanted it.

“I know you like him. He makes you feel alive, right? Like something inside of you is on fire, and you feel like you take the world by storm? Even sitting in the same vicinity as him sets you on the edge of your seat because being with him is exciting.”

Haru couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the soft words she spoke like needles in his chest as she continued. He felt like a deer in headlights, his eyes wide and his body frozen in place. He didn’t feel real, his mind a thousand miles away, reeling and reflecting on the past few months with Rin. Her voice hypnotized him as he felt his lips tingle with the memory of finally kissing him.

“He’s special. He’s different. He’s the only one that’s ever taken the time to integrate himself into your life. He knows things about you because he took the time to notice them, and he points them out, doesn’t he?” She paused. “I know; but I also know that he’s the only one you’ve ever taken the time to properly know. You don’t even know Makoto much anymore, do you?”

He felt himself shrug. His entire being had gone numb.

“If you let other people in, maybe you’ll see that he isn’t as special as you make him out to be.” She paused. “Nothing about your life is normal. He is. Let him have that. You’ve seen what it does to you – to me. Hell, even Makoto is a little fucked up because of it.”

His gaze was fixed on her, but his attention was somewhere else; on irises of ruby and garnet, on warm, calloused hands that fit with his curiously well, on heavy breaths and soft lips and desperate grasps and gentle touches, on moonlit talks and seashore conversations.

On Rin.

Nanako sighed quietly, uncrossed her legs, and stood. Haru’s eyes remained plastered to the wall behind her.

He almost missed her parting words as she tucked the fallen strand behind her ear again in his peripheral vision.

“God, I wish I hated you,” she whispered, and he could tell that she was looking down at him with pity in her eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to stop or to leave or anything else.

She simply left, and when she was gone, it was impossible to believe that much had changed. The clock above the archway was still ticking and the air conditioner was still humming. The lingering smell of coffee filled the house; nothing was different than it was 15 minutes ago.

 

* * *

 

Rin clenched his jaw as he heard Haru’s voice bellow through the house once more.

“Where the _fuck_ are my fucking employees?” he barked. He’d been in a foul mood all morning and the amount of times he’d dropped the f-word would make a sailor look like a saint.

Makoto was supposed to be coming over as soon as he could – on Rin’s request – to try and figure out what the fuck was going on. Haru had apparently been drinking early in the day yesterday and god knows how much more after getting back home, but he definitely didn’t handle hangovers well.

The maid and a few various employees entered the room – some looking annoyed, but a few more timid than anything – and Makoto sighed.

“Today isn’t even a busy day,” he said to Rin. “He only has a phone conference with a group from Britain.”

“Who cares how stressed he is? It doesn’t give him a reason to be like this,” Rin replied.

“I know,” Makoto said, his voice dropping even lower. “I think it’s my fault, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. His eyes narrowed as he took in Makoto’s expression, his face twisted into one of guilt and regret.

“I told Nanako she should come over and talk to him a little.”

“About what, exactly?”

He froze before smiling.

“Nothing in particular. They just don’t get along very well is all.”

Rin tried not to shoot daggers in his direction, but it was hard when Makoto was only giving him the bare minimum of the information he was asking for.

He hated seeing Haru like this and was looking for any way to calm him down without personal injuries.

“You,” Haru hissed. Rin whipped his head in the direction of the voice and saw him pointing at Makoto. “I don’t want you here. Rin, I can’t look at you right now; I have shit to do. I don’t care where you go, but you cannot be here.”

Rin’s irritation began to eat at him more than it had been and he took a few steps toward Haru.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he bit. So much for attempting to calm him down.

“I’m warning you, Rin.”

The room went quiet as Haru’s voice dropped, speaking as if he and Rin were the only ones present.

“What are you gonna do, huh? Fire me?”

“I could. Do not forget I am your _boss_.”

“Then do it, asshole!” Rin yelled. “Fucking do it. I dare you.”

“Get out!” Haru yelled back. “Get out of my house, Rin!”

Rin closed the distance between him and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to his face. Haru didn’t fight him, but the look of disgust and anger remained.

“Speak to me like that again, and I will not hesitate to –”

“To what?” Haru whispered. “To quit?”

Rin didn’t respond. He pushed Haru away and turned around, heading toward the back door. He was seething, but the underlying feeling of concern he had for Haru wouldn’t go away. He didn’t know what to do, and seeing him like that scared him; not that he was necessarily scared of Haru or what he would do – he knew Haru would never hurt him even in that state – but scared _for_ him. He never knew what was going on with him because he could never get Haru to open up about anything. No matter what he did or what he said, he’d never figure him out.

And it scared him.

He sat in the backyard for some time, occasionally weeding or watering the plants, but mainly trying to narrow out possibilities of what could have gone wrong with the information he had.

He was drinking yesterday after Rin had left, which led him to believe that Haru started drinking out of guilt or something. He’d apparently gone to Makoto’s afterward, which didn’t make it any better and probably just made it worse, seeing as how he’d interrupted Sousuke’s and Makoto’s day. Makoto didn’t mention anything else about that, which led up to this morning, when Nanako dropped in. Rin knew they hated each other, but Haru never seemed to let anything she said get to him, so why now? Why this time, and about what?

Maybe he was thinking too much about it. Maybe something had happened with his family or a friend – or maybe things were getting to be too much for him.

He began to feel bad that Haru felt alone in things like these, especially now that Makoto had essentially turned on him – or at least had in Haru’s mind – and all Rin wanted was to make sure Haru knew that he didn’t plan on leaving him in this state.

He pushed himself off the ground and dusted off his hands on his shorts before letting himself back inside. He couldn’t hear Haru anymore, nor did he see any of the other employees as he wandered through the house and up the stairs.

Knocking on Haru’s bedroom door was useless; he wasn’t in there, and even if he was, he wouldn’t respond in his current state.

He pushed the door open and threw himself on the sheets. They smelled like Haru and Rin couldn’t help but feel his irritation simmer. He laid there for a while, thinking about what he could say to Haru before realizing there wasn’t anything he could plan. He tended to stop thinking around him. Everything just came naturally.

Haru pushed the door open as Rin began to drift off. Sitting up, his eyes met with angry, blue irises on a blank expression. The white button-up Haru wore was still wrinkled at the collar from an hour ago, and Rin winced as he realized how run-down Haru must be feeling. He was susceptible to far stronger emotions, and he felt them so much more than he let on.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Rin said. He didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t sure if anything he wanted to say would even come out.

“Leave.”

“No. Not until you’re okay.” His words were soft, but the tone was hard, and he stood up as Haru came closer.

“Rin, I told you to leave.”

“As my boss or as my friend?”

“What?” Haru asked, seemingly confused by the question.

“Are you asking me to leave as my boss or as my friend?” he repeated.

“I’m not your friend.”

“But I’m more than your employee, and you know that,” Rin said, struggling to keep his voice calm.

“No, you’re not. You can’t be.”

“So, I guess you go around kissing all your employees, letting them sleep in your bed?”

“What if I did?” Haru bit, stepping forward as Rin stepped back.

“I know you better than that,” Rin said, immediately regretting it as Haru’s expression twisted into anger once again.

“You don’t know shit about me!” he shouted, his hands thrown out to the side before he clenched them at his sides.

“Then let me!” Rin yelled back. “I want to, Haru. God damn, why is it so hard for you to let me in? Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong. Just fucking stop,” he bit.

“Stop what, Haru? Huh? Stop fucking _caring about you_?” Rin asked, his voice getting louder with each syllable.

“Stop _fucking_ with me!” Haru screamed, shoving him back into the dresser behind him.  “Stop fucking with me!”

His eyes narrowed, and the only sounds in the room were heavy breaths and pounding hearts.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Haru hissed, closing the distance immediately and smashing his lips against Rin’s, his fingers instantly gripping the red locks, pulling him closer.

Rin dug his fingers hungrily into Haru’s sides, under his shirt and dragging his fingernails down his burning skin.

He growled under his breath as Rin’s hands ran up his chest, lifting his shirt with the movement before he broke away from Rin just long enough to peel the shirt off and throw it to the corner of the room. Haru pinned him to the dresser with his thigh between Rin’s legs, and a low moan escaped Rin’s lips, swallowed immediately by Haru.

He couldn’t think straight; Haru’s hands were all over him, pulling him closer, and his teeth trailed along his neck, and before he could stop him, Haru stripped him of his shirt, tossing it by his own.

Rin loved it, got lost in it, and let Haru dominate him completely. His whole body was burning, feeling bites and harsh kisses from his collarbone to his waistband until he let his eyes open and saw Haru on his knees in front of him.

“Shit, no, Haru. Wait,” he said, breathing heavily. He untangled his fingers from the black locks and rubbed his forehead.

He looked up at him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” he hissed, ripping his hands away and standing up.

“I don’t want our first time to be like this; angry and impulsive and…I don’t know.”

There was a pause in the room as both their breaths evened out.

“I’m sorry,” Haru replied. “You’re right.”

“Can you please talk to me? As a friend?”

“I can’t let you say that,” he mumbled. “I can’t let you be my friend.”

“Why not?” Rin asked, feeling more frustrated than irritated at this point. He didn’t understand, and though there were countless more important things than friendships in Haru’s life, Rin couldn’t help but feel that whatever was going on between them was significantly important to Haru.

He shrugged.

“Okay,” Rin sighed. “Then let’s talk about something else.”

“I think you should leave,” Haru whispered.

“You said that yesterday, too,” Rin replied just as quietly, “And where did that get us?”

“Do you think everything is about you?”

“I have a pretty good idea it started with me and went downhill from there.”

Haru didn’t reply. Rin assumed he didn’t have one.

“Even if it isn’t about me, I’m still not going to leave you like this unless you can look me in the eyes and genuinely tell me that you _do not_ want me here,” he said softly.

They hadn’t moved from where they stood and the tension between them was still just as thick.

“I don’t want you to see up close what I deal with and who the big-name families are behind the front page.”

“I couldn’t care less about the front page Nanases. You of all people should know that I will never stop trying to figure out more than just the front page,” Rin said, his tone hard and the words strong and reassuring. “I want you to know that I care about you and I will never hold your name against you.”

The conversation seemed to barely lift the tension, but Haru finally looked up and met Rin’s eyes.

“It doesn’t bother you right now that I don’t get any privacy, but you will once that attention is aimed at you. I don’t want you to be exposed to something like that if you don’t have to be,” Haru said evenly.

“If it means I get to be in your life, then I’d deal with it,” Rin said. “Not to sound sappy, but I think you’re worth a little bit more than minor inconveniences.”

Haru froze for a second before turning around and walking toward his bed, stepping out of his pants and climbing into bed.

“Haru?” Rin asked. His eyes narrowed as he watched him get comfortable under the blankets.

“Rin.”

“Yes?”

“Will you come lay with me?” he mumbled, so quietly that Rin had to strain to hear him.             

“Are you going to try and suck my dick again?”

“Not tonight,” he said flatly. “Just for a little while. Please.”

“What about your conference?”

“Done.”

“Already?” Rin asked.

“I told them I’d have to reschedule.”

“They let you?”

“I said my uncle died,” Haru said. “He did.”

“Oh, shit,” Rin sighed sharply. “I’m so –”

“13 years ago,” he said, cutting him off.

“Haru.”

He smiled softly and opened his arms. “Please.”

Rin grinned and decided that he liked this Haru. This Haru wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable around him. He could get used to that.

He stripped his shorts off and slipped under the blanket, hesitating for a second before Haru wrapped one arm over his waist and tucked the other underneath the pillow as his head rested in the crook of Rin’s shoulder.

He smiled and pressed his lips to Haru’s forehead.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” he mumbled. “I’m still not going to let you in.”

“I know, Haru,” he said quietly. He had a feeling that was lie, but said nothing more. He didn’t have to. The tightening of Haru’s grasp was enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was not proofread at all
> 
> sorry my dudes


End file.
